Something's Gotta Give
by ericastwilight
Summary: Two troubled pasts that took different paths. She takes life by the horns and tries to live it to the fullest. He hides away on the mountaintop, rough all around. What happens when they meet? What happens when their worlds' collide? Ruggeddom Contest Third Place Winner in the Public Vote! Now complete.
1. Crash

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Chapter One-Crash**

* * *

Bella tapped her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the song on the radio. Bertha, her big, blue truck, roared down the town's main street, cutting a path through the rain-slickened asphalt. Summer rain was her favorite kind of weather, but it made for dangerous conditions. The four-lane road wasn't too busy due to the late hour.

The mountain community wasn't a large city, but tourists demanded that they accommodate during the season.

The crinkle from the plastic bag on the passenger seat reminded her of the reward she would receive once she got home. When she realized she'd run out of all flavors of creamy gelato she had, a late night run down the mountain was a necessity since the local place closed at eight.

After working all afternoon on a project, she needed the icy goodness the same way she needed air. She also wanted the sugar rush to enable her to work the rest of the night so she could load all the pictures she'd taken onto her laptop and her cloud drive.

Running beside her on the left was a sleek black car, some fancy brand that she hardly paid attention to—a BMW maybe—but she was clueless. It looked expensive. The windows weren't tinted, and inside, she saw a handsome, older man, chowing down on a meatball sandwich. It was only a second or two, but it was enough of a glimpse to see he had sauce all over his mouth.

The sight almost made her honk her horn to tell the idiot to pay attention. She'd seen too many serious accidents since she lived on Dead Man's Corner back home, a nickname earned after several fatal accidents over the years.

She rolled her eyes at herself.

Even after all this time, six years since her dad died, she still was the Chief's daughter, through and through. The traffic picked up as she neared the intersection of Cross Street and Jackson Ave.

The light overhead turned a brilliant red.

She had moved from a big city out to the middle of nowhere California. In the three months since then, she'd gotten to know many locals. Since she'd been traveling for the last month, she hadn't met them all, but eventually, she would.

She started to slow down, but the fancy car beside her kept on going. After a two-second glance at the driver, she saw that he was distracted. His gaze was on her, and his once crisp white shirt was now stained red with sauce.

His hands reached for his throat.

"For the love of God!" she cried out. "You're choking now! Now! This is what happens when you eat while driving!" His eyes nearly bugged out as he noticed her shaking a fist at him. She turned her attention to the road and realized he was about to head right into Demetri, a local truck driver whose semi was now in the intersection.

She cursed as she swerved, thanking her godfather, Marcus, for the laps at the track whenever she visited in her youth. Her tires burned rubber streaks onto the asphalt, the brakes screeching an unholy wail as her life practically flashed before her eyes.

She realized something as it happened.

She needed to have more sex.

Her lack of a love life was all Paul's fault. The three-minute wonder left her always wanting more…though, not from him. The three months they dated over a year ago, now seemed like such a waste of time and money, once the cost of the condoms he made her buy was added in.

As her hair whipped across her face, she caught up to the present, and suddenly, the sound of metal against metal bounced around in her ears. Glass exploded on her right and her entire back window shattered, forcing her shoulders to curl forward and up for protection. She cried out as the black bitch of a car threatened to push her into the intersection's traffic. It halted after a foot or so, her truck coming back to a full stop, bouncing once as her tires hit the ground. She groaned as her head throbbed to an equivalent of an oncoming migraine. It took another second or two for her to get her bearings and see that the man was still choking.

"Why do I have to be such a nice person?" she whined.

She crawled along the seat to the passenger side and had to shove hard to get it opened. Huffing and puffing, cursing something awful, she ran toward Mr. Fancy Car and threw open the driver's door.

He was unconscious.

She was positive he was still choking when she was in her truck. Using two fingers, she checked for a pulse and found it to be thready. She looked down and noticed that his chest wasn't moving. She patted around him gently and felt no broken bones; the airbags had done their job well.

"Shit," she hissed and worked his seatbelt off. She apologized aloud when his head hit the side of the doorjamb, but he was heavy. Bella barely weighed a buck and a quarter. Though lean, the man in her arms had to be at least six feet tall. The nearest hospital was thirty minutes away, and she had no clue how long it would be for an ambulance.

"Omph," she said as she plopped on the ground, cushioning his fall. Her ass was going to bruise, no doubt about it. "You better live so I can slap you stupid for this!" She worked to shift him onto his back, and though a few bystanders joined her, no one knew how to Heimlich him.

She prayed she remembered.

It had been years since Mrs. Newtown insisted she take a CPR course before she took care of her two precious children. Bella had lovingly nicknamed them Thing 1 and Thing 2.

She bent over the man's prone form and breathed twice into his mouth.

"He's not getting the air, honey," a woman dressed in a waitress uniform said from behind her. "I think you're right, he's still got something lodged inside there."

Bella agreed and stuck her fingers in the man's mouth, ignoring that this was the most action she'd gotten in months. At least he was hot, despite the marinara all over his chin. She found the culprit, a golf ball, sized meatball, and pulled only half of it out.

"Shit."

She pushed in behind him and attempted a half-assed maneuver that popped the rest of the sucker out, but the man was still not breathing.

"Double shit."

Someone had already called for an ambulance, but it seemed to be taking forever. However, in reality, it had been only three minutes since she had gotten him out of the car in an effort to save his life. A man helped her move Mr. Fancy Car onto his back again, and with Bella's instructions, helped her begin CPR.

The wail of the approaching ambulance was a relief. If they had arrived a few moments earlier, then Mr. Fancy Car wouldn't have started coughing after the seventh set of compressions, and vomited all over her chest.

~oOo~

Esme Cullen had hugged Bella as if she walked on water. There were many tears, some thankful words, several pats on the back, and an awkward, "I'm sorry I leaked all over your shirt."

Mr. Fancy Car turned out to be Carlisle Cullen, an ER doctor at the hospital Bella was in right then, and apparently, some sort of God there. All his colleagues shook her hand so much, she wondered if a teenage boy felt that way once he figured out Rosy Palmer could take care of his needs.

Her wrist actually hurt!

If that Dr. Aro Donatello patted her ass one more time while she waited for news, she was going to kick him in the shins and punch him in the nuts. The dude was creepy as hell with his shoulder length, dark hair styled in a widow's peak. He spoke as though he was from the fifteenth century, but giggled like a child.

She shuddered at the thought of him.

She wiped her hand on her thigh, hoping to find one of those hand sanitizer things most hospitals had everywhere. They'd been there for an hour, and still no word on Mr. Fancy Car's condition. Though he had started breathing on the scene, after vomiting, he had yet to wake up.

She began to tear up the tissues she had handy, something she did when she was anxious. There was now a mess on her lap, which she tossed in the trash and returned to the chair. She crossed her legs like a pretzel and tried to find her happy place. With her eyes closed, she hummed, but her happy place was nowhere to be found. She'd been all over the world, and yet, she couldn't think of one gorgeous, scenic place.

Bella attempted to lose herself in a memory of her last trip to Fiji, but a gruff voice interrupted her process. It was rough, as if he didn't use it often, but the tenor of it made a shiver run down her spine, and tiny bumps raise along her arms. He was asking about Dr. Cullen at the nurse's station agitated for some reason. Then she remembered that Esme had said something about her son coming down from his cabin, almost an hour away from civilization.

She ran her fingers through her long brown hair, thankful that a couple of nurses helped her clean it up. Her thick curls saved her from the auto glass, managing to escape the accident with a few minor cuts and bruises. Her ass hurt, though, so she took a moment to rub it.

Under the cover of meditating, she peeked at the man who had a set of gorgeous parents. She needed to look at him for no other reason than to curb her curiosity. She had to know what Dr. Hot Fancy Car and Mama Mia created with their beautiful love.

Did he look like an angel?

Adonis?

Would the cloudy sky open up and sun shine down directly over him?

Bella took a moment to make sure she hadn't hit her head. She was losing it! A quick rub down of her scalp confirmed she couldn't blame her craziness on a concussion. She had an unusually odd and quirky personality; her father used to say she got from her grandmother. The truth was, it the artist in them.

The man stood at the high counter, glaring down at a tiny blonde nurse, hands on the surface, almost breathing fire at her. He was about six-three, with broad shoulders and a trim waist and hips. Thick thighs dressed in well-worn jeans, muddied from the work boots that came up to his knees. His biceps tested the stretching capability of the thermal, grey shirt he wore to its limits. She had a thing for nice arms and thighs.

"Can you tell me anything?" he asked briskly.

Bella's gaze finally reached his face and was surprised to find a thick beard covering most of his jawline. Various colors adorned it, ranging from dark brown to auburn, and he looked like the perfect model for Mountain Man Magazine if there was such a thing. His hair was long on top, but shorter along the sides and back. It curled around his ears, and some of it fell over his left eye, giving him one hell of a sexy, manly quality.

He was the last thing she expected, considering the suit-wearing doctor and his sexy, designer-wearing wife. Yet, he was beautiful in his own way.

"That's the woman that hit your father's car," the nurse said, pointing toward Bella. The bitch was toast, Bella thought, silently cursing her. Gypsy blood ran in her veins and Nurse Jane would rue the day she set the bull on her.

The man at the counter, whose name Bella couldn't remember, turned his sea-glass, green eyes in her direction. They turned into dark shards, pissed as hell and aimed directly at her.

She felt as if she was the waving red cape used in a bullfight as a bull readied to charge its enemy. The man slowly turned his body around to face her, and ensnared her with his stare. She felt trapped in it, and the look simultaneously hardened her nipples and chilled her to the bone.

_Wow. _

She had a gift for words.

His stride was long, and in four of them, he reached her, towering overhead like a majestic oak tree.

"You need to leave," he hissed through clenched teeth. Confused, and a little too stunned by the smell of him, she didn't say a word. He smelled of pine needle soap, musk, and just male. She wanted to bottle the scent and steal the thermal he wore right off his body. "Are you fucking deaf, too? Clearly, you don't have your wits about you considering you hit my father's car!"

Shaking her head to clear her it, she returned his glare, though she doubted it amounted to much considering she was sitting in a chair with her legs folded, staring at his crotch.

It was right in front of her face! That was her defense, and she was sticking to it.

Her eyes ran up the length of him. She noticed the twitch of his muscles underneath the soft looking, grey cotton. His eyes narrowed when she finally met his glare with one of her own.

"I'm not going anywhere until I know if Dr. Fancy Car is okay."

His nostrils flared, a sign the bull was about to charge. She kinda wanted to let him. "Why the hell should you care, considering you're the one that put him here?"

Bella was confused. Didn't Esme tell him about the accident?

"Did you just call my father Dr. Fancy Car?" His arms crossed over his chest, and guiltily, she peeked to watch the play of his arms.

_Hello, muscles. _

She snapped her head back up to his face and couldn't help but notice a vein starting to throb on his forehead. It shouldn't have been hot, but it was.

"I see. You figured out he's rich and now you think you can hit my father with a lawsuit," he sneered, bending down until his face was level with her. "Think again."

"You smell good."

Now, in Bella's defense, people often told her she spoke her mind. It didn't help that the man was radioactive in his hotness.

Nuclear.

She was a sucker for a pretty face and beard, and great hair, and she couldn't forget the arms. As she thought of all that, her gaze took inventory again, memorizing every feature.

He had a scar above his left eyebrow, and there was a hint of one near his ear, but his beard covered it up. She wanted to lick it.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

That was a loaded question.

"Get up." He didn't give her a chance to protest, taking her arm and lifting her straight off the chair. Her mind chose that precise moment to become defensive, and she kicked his shin. "Fucking hell, woman. Are you certifiable?"

She tugged her arm from his grasp, putting her hands on her hips. "It depends on who you ask."

He got right up in her face again. "I don't find that hard to believe."

"Oh, you're just a piece of work, aren't you," she said, shaking her head. "I'm trying to tell you—"

"I don't care what you have to say, get the hell out of this hospital and stay away from my parents. You won't see a goddamn dime. Are you hearing me now, little girl?"

Too upset to gather her thoughts, she huffed, spun around, and stalked away. She even left him a parting word in the form of a bird behind her back.

Edward watched the crazy woman with part admiration and disgust. He'd seen the heap of blue metal that was her truck and how it managed to survive the accident while his father's front end hadn't made it. He'd seen it on the tow truck on the drive to the hospital. It was practically a total loss since it went against her tank.

Dressed in blue scrubs and denim cutoffs, she was cute and sexy. Petite, too; she barely reached his shoulder. It wouldn't save her ass, though. "I'll see you in court, brown eyes. I'll make sure of that, I promise."

The woman with the long, multi-faceted, brown hair and equally intriguing eyes spun back around and stomped her foot. Before she could say something, her demeanor changed. Going from anger to a look of fear as her eyes softened, and her hands rose to cover her mouth. Edward was an asshole, no sense in denying that fact. It kept people at a distance, just the way he liked it. However, he didn't like to frighten women, though his friend, Emmett, said he was scary looking.

"I thought I heard you, Edward," his mother said from behind him, followed by a sniffle. Any thought of remorse for scaring the stranger left him at that sound.

"Esme," the scorned woman said as Edward turned to speak with his mother. He sent the pint-sized terror a withering glare that had her retreating a step back. She got a hold of herself, though, and held her chin up high. "How's Carlisle doing?"

What the hell was going on? His mother was on a first name basis with the woman who caused the accident.

"He's fine, dear," his mother said softly, lifting a tissue to wipe her eyes. "He should be discharged by morning. I'm so glad you stayed. Have you met my son yet, Bella?"

"Oh, we've met," Bella said heatedly. "He told me to leave."

His mother's eyes widened, her hands settling on her hips. "Edward Anthony William Cullen, what did you say to her?"

Aware that the woman that tattled on him stood nearby, he answered his mother honestly. "She hit Dad with her truck."

"Of course she did," Esme answered, seemingly grateful for the fact. "It's more than anyone else would do in a situation like this."

"It was nothing," Bella said, shrugging it off as if putting his father in the hospital meant little to her. "Is Hot Doc all right?"

"Hot Doc?" his mother asked with a little amusement in her tone.

"Um, sorry," Bella said, blushing up to the tips of her ears. "It's what the nurses call him."

Frustrated that their conversation was leading them nowhere, Edward nearly growled. "I don't want this woman…"

"Hey, I'm right here!"

He thrust a finger in her direction to emphasize his point. "I don't want this woman anywhere near Dad. She put him in the hospital, so she shouldn't be here. I don't care if she sweet talked you into believing that she cares, she's leaving."

"You're right, I am," Bella said, swirling around again and walking out. She heard Esme protest, and as she turned the corner, she heard her lay it on him. Served the asshole right for making assumptions about why she hit his father's car. She hoped she never saw the hot mountain man again.

~oOo~

Bella's cell phone rang incessantly as she drove away, but she ignored it. Not many people had the new number besides her handler and Esme Cullen. She wouldn't receive a call, but a text from her handler, so that left Esme, but she wasn't in the mood to listen to her apologize for her rude son.

_Asshole._

She stripped down to her birthday suit the moment she walked into her house, climbed the stairs, and flopped onto her bed. Her hand reached for a pillow, her body curling around it. She would not dream about Mountain Man, or hot green eyes, or of Edward chopping wood.

Nope.

She would not, and as her eyes closed, she cursed the motherfucker for already being there, waiting, and offering a hand for her to take. He led her to a nearby creek, and with a wink, her clothes disappeared. After that, she slipped further into the dream and forgot about all the reasons she was angry with him.

~oOo~

Someone was going to die.

Whomever it was pounding outside, would die a thousand deaths.

Bella wasn't a normally violent person, unless you were a six-foot-three bearded God with arms of steel. Him, she'd like to kick again. Even in her dreams, the man pissed her off, never allowing her to get off.

She was hot and bothered with no man around. At that point, she considered making Edward a caution sign he could wear around his neck; _Warning: all available and unavailable women and men to avoid staring into those eyes of his, or else you'll dream about him forever._

The man had only touched her arm, and though she was mad at the time, she hadn't forgotten how she felt at that moment. Heat curled her toes, desire sent her heart rate spiraling, and that look combined with his touch, obliterated the usefulness of her underwear.

She liked the yellow polka dot boy shorts.

_Bam, bam, bam_

She turned onto her back and screamed. "I need to sleep, asshole!" The pounding stopped for a few seconds and restarted just as loud, and now even faster. She screamed again, and tossed the blankets off walking over to her window.

She couldn't see who it was. Since the asshole contractor that stole her money was long gone, there shouldn't be anyone working on her home that week. Jacob Black was another one on her shit list, that she now realized she had an actual need for.

_Bella's Shit List_

Edward Cullen- for being too hot for his own good and an asshole

Jacob Black- for stealing $25,000 for materials and then disappearing

Paul Lahote- for having a five-inch dick he didn't know how to use

There were others, so Bella memorized her mental list as she continued to add to it and the ways she'd pay them all back for the shit they'd done to her. Okay, she could forgive Edward, and ask him to stay for breakfast the next morning. Damn, her mind was perpetually in the gutter lately.

Opening the window, she found the noisy culprit and shook her fist at the asshole hammering away on _her _porch.

"What the hell are you doing on my property?"

The figure on the ladder turned, and even under the thick, auburn shield of hair and beard, she saw Edward's eyes widen.

Then he fell off the ladder.

She stepped away from the window grimacing as she realized she was naked.

Oops.

~oOo~

"You have a damn screw loose," Edward hissed at Bella. She was patching up a cut over his eyebrow after slapping an ice pack on his cheek. He swore his brain rattled in his head when he hit the railing. If anyone had seen that, he'd never live that shit down. At least the pain helped to remind him that he was angry with her.

He couldn't even look at her without the image of her completely naked superimposing itself over her clothed body. Not that the barely there shorts and tank top helped the damn situation.

"Insulting me while I'm fixin' you up is stupid," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice that should've annoyed him. It didn't. She emphasized her point by pressing much harder than needed on his forehead.

He bit back the need to grunt, his teeth clenched as tight as his fists. Twice, he had to adjust himself as he sat on the porch chair. More often than that, he had to avert his eyes from her ludicrously soft-looking skin.

"I wouldn't need fixing if you…Fuck!" She flicked the wound. Glaring at her, he noticed she was as surprised as he was by the action.

"It's your fault," she whispered in a voice that said he was treading on a thin line. She tore open more butterfly strips, and roughly applied them with no finesse. "I'm not violent. I'm a genuinely nice person. Every time you open your mouth, I want to hurt you or jump you."

Edward choked on the glass of water she'd given him when she ordered him to the chair so she could play nurse. She smacked his back a few times with the strength of a lion. That was surprising, considering she looked like a kitten.

He pushed her hands away and shook his head. "Enough. If you keep touching me, you're going to end up killing me."

She pouted.

Her lips and eyes dominated her classic face, making her naturally beautiful in the not-so-typical way. Brown eyes stared at him, rimmed with a darker color, which made them stand out against her peach colored skin. The lips, his gaze dipped down to admire, were full, perfect little arches, and in a soft pink color that lured a man in.

"That's a shame," she said, sighing. She turned away from him and cleaned up the mess she made with the rather large first aid kit.

"What's a shame?" Edward checked the cut using the reflection in the window nearby, surprised to find she did a good job.

"That if I keep touching you, it might kill you," she stated.

She could've said she was an alien and sent to procreate with humans, and it wouldn't have shocked him more. He shook it off.

"Do you always speak your mind?" he asked, wiping his brow on his sleeve. It was early, but with the sun high enough in the sky, it was already eighty degrees, and in the mountain community, it was hot. That was the reason why he came as early as he had.

"I say what I think, and I mean what I say." She shrugged. "What are you doing here at this ungodly hour?"

Edward stood up, needing to keep his distance from the crazy woman. Leaning on the railing, he crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her. "You could've told me what happened instead of allowing me to yell at you."

"As if you let me say a single word," she hissed, rolling her eyes. "I kept trying but you kept coming at me. That's your fault. Next time, take a moment to listen to what someone has to say before you jump to conclusions."

"A midnight call from my mother telling me that my father was in an accident and some woman hit his car on purpose would send anyone running without hearing the details."

"Can you not cross your arms like that?" she asked. Her eyes, he noticed, were not on his face, but his arms.

"Why?" He flexed, just to see if his suspicions were right.

She whimpered.

"Never mind," she said, turning around and walking into her house. The screen door slammed closed behind her, but he never let a flimsy barrier keep him from having the last word. "Come on in, welcome." The sarcasm in her voice nearly stopped him in his tracks. She had a fiery temper.

He followed her toward the kitchen, noticing a few of her clothes strewn on the floor leading up the stairs. He nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight of black, sheer underwear.

Clearing his throat, he got it over with while he had the chance. "I came to apologize, thank you, and offer my assistance with the problem my mother said you had."

"By waking me up before seven in the morning on a Saturday?" she said firmly. She opened her fridge, bending to grab a carton of eggs. He needed the support of the kitchen island that stood between them after the view she gave him. "Besides, I didn't hear any apologies or offers to work for me."

He wasn't one to apologize ever. "Thank you for saving my father. Twice."

She eyed him as she beat the eggs in a bowl, throwing in a few spices. "You're welcome, but that's not an apology."

With that attitude, he wouldn't give her one. "My buddy, Emmett, is looking for that asshole, Jacob, to get your money back. For now, I'll start the repairs and cover the costs of materials and labor until then."

"Is this some kind of a joke?" She tossed the fork she was using in the sink and threw a pan on the six-burner cooktop in the kitchen island. "You think you can come here and repay me for saving your father. That's not how it works. I did what I had to do. I'm not a damn monster. I didn't do it for money or reward of any kind. Now leave. I can take care of the work myself."

He glared at her, spun on his heels, and left the house. Walking over to his truck, he grabbed his pack of smokes from the dash. After a look back at the house, he noticed Bella hadn't done much since Jake took off with her cash. The porch was ready to fall apart, and every time she slammed the damn door closed, most of it shook down to the foundation. There weren't many contractors in the area, and anyone from out of town would charge her an extra ten to fifteen dollars an hour, at least.

With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he climbed up the ladder to finish removing the rotting fascia. It didn't take long for her to come out, but instead of telling him off as he anticipated, she got into her blue tank of a truck. She sent him a heated look, put the truck into gear, and sped away, spitting gravel behind her.

"Damn."

~oOo~

Bella wanted to dislike Esme, she honestly wanted to, but the woman made it impossible. She managed to pull out some of her secrets, the fact that she had no family left, and one of the reasons she bought a money pit cabin on the mountain.

"Just let him take care of the repairs until Emmett gets your money back." Emmett was the local sheriff, and apparently, had been waiting for a reason to hunt Jacob down like the dog he was.

"Fine, but money isn't the problem," she said and took a sip of the lemonade Esme gave her. "Nobody has time, and with fall and winter nearly around the corner, I don't want to be stuck with a drafty, cold house."

Esme nodded and drank deeply from her own glass. "Understandable, honey. Why don't you stay for dinner and then you can talk business with Edward, if you're so determined to pay for his services."

Bella tried not to think of what kind of services she'd like Edward to perform, but she wasn't successful, at all. Not that she'd ever had to pay for that kind of thing.

"Mom?" Bella heard the deep, rough voice come from the back kitchen door. "Don't tell me you gave her your homemade lemonade."

"Of course, I did," Esme said, hiccupping. Her glazed eyes widened, and from the way she swayed in her seat, Bella thought she was well on the way to being drunk.

She looked at her drink, shrugged, and drank the rest. "Yeah! Of course, she did. What's wrong with that?"

"Yes, son, what's wrong with that?" Esme stood up and walked, more like stumbled her way to the subzero freezer in the kitchen.

Bella eyed Edward, noticing that time had certainly escaped her. The sun was setting behind him, silhouetting him to perfection. He was tall, on the lean side, but built like her dream. She had left the house soon after Edward decided to go against her wishes and work on her damn porch anyway. Her intention was to see Esme and to check on Carlisle; maybe even talk some sense into them.

That visit had turned into a lovely lunch after they sprung Carlisle from the hospital. Other than bruises and a sore throat, he was doing well. Last time Esme checked, he was still sleeping. Personally, Bella thought he likely quickened his release since all the nurses were clamoring for a shift on his floor. Esme, for all her poise and grace, had a bit of a jealous and possessive streak. Same with Carlisle; that man was handsy, too, when he was loopy.

"What's the matter?" Bella asked a little too firmly. "Ain't I good enough for your mom's prized lemonade?"

"You're drunk." He walked over to the sink, washed his hands, and carefully led his mother to the chair she had vacated. "I'll get you another one, Mom."

Esme looked lovingly up at her son, patting his hand. Bella felt an ache twinge in her heart at the picture, reminding her of long ago memories. "That's a good boy."

Bella snorted, earning a glare from the good boy. "What?" She held up her drink. "Don't blame me for the state your mother is in. I had no idea there was alcohol in the lemonade." Edward took her glass as he rolled his eyes. She ogled his butt.

It was right there!

_That's her story, and she's sticking to it._

His ass was perfect and something that looked chiseled and firm. She wanted to bite it.

"Bite what?" Esme asked, offering Bella some cheese and apples, all on a fancy plate.

"Your son's ass."

The sound of glass breaking reverberated around the room, followed by a series of expletives that made her blush, and Esme's eyes widened comically. Bella winced as the kitchen door slammed closed.

"Oh dear," Esme whispered. "You didn't warn him about your tendency to say what's on your mind, did you?"

"He knows."

Esme sighed and pouted, propping her chin on her hand. She blew out a deep breath, one that sent a caramel colored curl covering her hazel eye up, only to fall right back into place. "Who is going to serve us now?"

Bella looked at the mess that Edward left behind and then down at Esme's bare feet. "Your son's an ass. He could've cleaned up at least."

"I can do it." Esme tried to rise to her feet, but swayed. With only one finger on her shoulder, Bella was able to push Esme back into the chair.

"I'll get it."

By the time Bella finished, Esme was snoring at the table. From the kitchen window, she saw a glowing, red spot in the driveway that moved higher, and burned brighter.

Edward.

She tossed the towel aside and helped Esme to her room. The woman seemed coherent enough to greet her husband with a sloppy kiss, and changed clothes on her own. Thank God, since Bella had her limits. She grabbed her purse and keys, heading outside and toward where she'd seen that glowing ember.

From the look of it, he was on another cigarette. "You irritate me." He was such a romantic.

"I put your mother to bed," she said by way of a decent reply. "Your father needs meds in about an hour, so don't forget to wake him up. I left the two pills on the nightstand. Your mother didn't have dinner. We nibbled on a few things throughout the afternoon, but time got away."

"Didn't you hear me?"

"As for the work, go for it. It's obvious that it's important to your parents to help in any way they can. But I will be paying you."

He tossed the spent butt on the ground, grinding it with his boot. "I don't want your money."

"I don't want you to feel that you owe me for saving your father."

"You stopped his car with your truck, putting your own life at risk knowing that there was the distinct possibility of ending up in the intersection yourself. Then you pulled him out of the car and saved his life again, from what I hear."

"That doesn't mean you owe me anything."

"You're right, but I'm thankful for that," he said, shaking his head. "I'm doing the work because that asshole, Jake, used to work for me, before I closed shop last year."

"Oh."

"And because I made an ass of myself for accusing you of being after my parents' money."

It was the best she was going to get, so why not try to make him smile. "You made me cry." She pouted. He cursed, and damn, if it didn't make _her_ smile. She liked riling him up.

"But if you don't stop with that damn mouth of yours, I'll end up tossing you over my shoulder, and you wouldn't see daylight for days until we come up for air."

He only said it to scare her, but she could see he was considering it anyway. Her thighs clenched, as did other parts of her. "I need a ride home."

"You're out of your damn mind!"

She giggled and skipped to her truck. "Fine, I'll drive myself, Edward."

He shifted from foot to foot but stalked toward her. "Get in," he said, taking her keys before she had a chance to hand them over. "I'll bring your truck back in the morning."

"You can drop it at Sam's," she said, climbing up and crawling across the seat. She was a little drunk, apparently. Edward cursed a lot from behind her, and the way the door slammed closed made the truck rattle. She settled on the seat, tossing her feet onto the dashboard. "He's supposed to put the windows in."

The only window that survived the crash was the front. He nodded and started old Bertha up. Bella remained quiet as she watched him put the truck into drive—how she wished she had a manual transmission. The sight of Edward's arm handling the shift was worthy of paying for admission tickets.

"Christ," he said. "Drunk as you are, you have absolutely no filter. That's saying something."

She shrugged. "I never really had one," she said, looking out the window. The man drove the same way he talked, rough. Her brakes whined twice when he had to make stops, and those were quick and hard. She wondered if he'd ride her like that, too. She shifted in her seat, having to wiggle a bit to relieve a little ache between her thighs. She moaned, and Edward muttered something under his breath.

Several minutes later, dirt kicked up as Edward pulled in front of her out of the way house. She truly loved the cabin; even in the dark, she appreciated how it was nestled in the forest around it as if it had sprouted from the earth just for her.

"There's a delivery of materials coming in around eight, and I'll be here then."

Bella looked over at him. "Is there something wrong with me?"

It was official. She was somewhat drunk and turning into the dreaded, emotional kind.

Confusion furrowed his brow and filled his eyes. "Why would you say that?"

"You've called me crazy more than once." His eyebrows shot up. "And you don't want me." She hopped out of the truck, ran up the porch steps, and slammed the door closed behind her.

~oOo~

Three weeks. That was how long Edward had been working on the house. He pointedly ignored her most of the time, only doing the tasks that were on the contract he drew up. Their only interactions were when they shared lunch in silence. It wasn't bad. At least she could look at him, and it was nice not to be alone.

She knew most of his story, thanks to his mother. Knew why he chose to close himself off from others except family, and realized they were a lot alike while being worlds apart.

While he allowed his past to pull him under, he only surfaced long enough to take care of his family when they needed him. Carlisle said he had a tendency to disappear and hole up on his mountaintop for months at a time.

She chose not to dwell on something she couldn't change, and took life by the horns. If she wanted something, she went for it, plain and simple. Though she wanted Edward, something told her she might not be strong enough to keep him afloat.

She watched as he chopped and whacked at a tree stump that had fallen the week before in a freak storm. That night had been horrible, waking up from a nightmare only to find that it had been real. A limb smashed through her bedroom window, sending her running to Esme. As Esme and Carlisle worked to calm her down, they cleaned up the cuts from the broken glass and branches that scratched like fingernails along her arms.

Edward had been less than pleased.

She knew he was angry that she had become a permanent fixture in his parents' life. He didn't want her to be, only because he didn't want to want her. Half the time, the man looked at her as though he was ready to strip her down and have his way with her, the rest he spent ignoring her.

Muscles moved as he swung down, the sound of metal against wood echoing in the almost enclosed area due to the thick canopy of trees overhead. Sweat dotted his brow and dripped down his chest and back. A smattering of brown hair bisected his abdomen, highlighting the display. His back was as sculpted as his front, though she wouldn't call him bulky.

He had scars all over his back, thick ropes of rough and red skin. A prisoner of war; that was all Esme had to say, for Bella to know what he probably faced every time he closed his eyes.

She wanted to share her story; how she once loved a boy, until his time in the war marred him. Tell him how the blue-eyed man she watched him become and cared for, nearly killed her in his sleep due to his terror.

She couldn't share that part of herself yet, but one day. The rest of her secrets would come up eventually.

She walked out onto her porch with a tray filled with food and drinks, placing it on the tiny table nearby. She stepped off the stairs and approached him, his eyes narrowed and he was quick to toss his shirt on, glaring at her. It had been the first time he removed his shirt while working.

"How long have you been watching?"

"I'm always watching." She didn't dare mention she'd seen the scars.

He grunted and wiped at his face with a rag from his back pocket. "Don't you have a damn job?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "Don't pretend you don't know what I do for a living, your mother probably tells you all about me when she sees you." Bella saw right through the woman's matchmaking attempts.

"She tries," he grumbled, taking the bottle of water she offered him. "Thanks." He guzzled it, wiping his mouth on the red plaid fabric on his arm.

"Come on up, I have some lunch for you."

He nodded and quietly followed her lead up onto the porch. She felt his eyes on her, and something told her they weren't aimed at the back of her head. She shivered a little.

He grabbed a sandwich and leaned against the railing. He never sat beside her. "What do you do?" he asked after he wolfed most of his food down.

"Photography," she said, purposely vague. "Your mom said you have some property I'd probably like to photograph, something about a creek and an old bridge."

"No." He grabbed another sandwich and turned his back to her, kicking at the railing for no good reason.

"Why?"

He was quick to answer in a no nonsense tone. His voice was rough and thick with accusation. "Because its mine."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He spun around and glared at her. "You already got your hooks into my parents, enough that you'll be invited to holiday dinners forever because they can't let their precious Bella be all alone."

She could've opted for anger, and she even felt a twinge of it. But she was tired of being angry all the time, it exhausted her. How could he stand it?

"They love me. They know I have no other family or friends." None; she lost those she had left in one night.

"Damn you."

Bella cocked her head to one side, catching a view of his chest again. He hadn't buttoned his shirt. "That dirty mouth of yours comes out a lot when I'm around."

"That's it!" He stomped toward her, lifted her up until her feet touched the ground. He grabbed the back of her head, and tugged it back by her hair. Staring down at her, he gave her no chance to protest. Not that she intended to anyway; she could happily stare at his face all day. "You should be scared."

"Not even a little bit."

He slanted his mouth over hers in a brutal kiss. It was passion, heat, anger, and a hint of possessiveness. Where that came from, she wasn't sure, but she loved the taste of it, of him. His lips were softer than she expected, as was his beard that he trimmed a little the week before. A bite on her lower lip had her moaning, and he took advantage of it. It was his chance to delve deep inside her mouth, stroking her tongue with his, tasting of sugar, cinnamon and spices.

Other than his hand and his mouth, no other parts of him touched her. He took care of that as he backed them against the wall. His body pressed along hers in a way that she couldn't move, but the heat coming off him was delicious and welcomed. One of his hands still held her head prisoner, directing where he wanted her mouth to go. He deepened the kisses further, his tongue tasting every inch of her mouth. His other hand cupped her breast, hissing when he realized she wore no bra. Her nipple, already tight from desire, was painfully aching for more. He gave it to her with a stroke of the rough pad of his thumb.

It was at that moment that awareness, other than for his lips, made her hands move from her sides. When she tried to reach for him, he pushed away.

"No," she said, pulling him in by his shirt until they were once again flush against each other. His grunt was short, and she swallowed his protest with another kiss. Fight gone, he fisted his hand in her hair, the other manacled her wrists between them. He kissed the way he did everything else.

Efficient.

Angry.

And rough.

She loved it.

"More," she pleaded as his mouth trailed down her neck. Her hands, caught in the vice of his, tugged, but he only shook his head. It was the beginning of the end; she felt it as he slowed down, and took a deep breath against her shoulder.

"Not like this," he said, stepping away and putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. After a minute, he sailed over the railing in a spectacular show of grace and action. He picked up the axe from where he had ebbed it in the stump.

He stalked toward his truck.

"I'll see you soon."

It was a promise.

It was there in the words, in the way he looked at her even as he drove away.

She breathed deeply, rubbing a hand over her mouth. It tingled. Although his beard had surprised her in its softness, the effect of it no doubt marked her skin. She liked that it did and hoped he'd do the same to her thighs and breasts.

He didn't return that night.

~oOo~

"Are you sure?" Edward asked his mother.

"She's gone, son." She shook her head, sipping on her drink. "Emmett searched her house when she disappeared. She didn't tell any of us."

Edward rubbed a hand over his face, pounding a fist on the table. "I only needed a day or two, had to think things over."

"You were gone almost a month, Edward."

He felt guilty for staying up in his cabin for so long. "Now she's gone."

"Edward," his mother said warily. "Her purse was found inside."

"What?"

"Why would she leave her purse and take no clothes with her?" she asked softly, sniffling.

Dread clawed him on the inside. "That's why you kept calling on Monday." That was two days before.

She nodded. "We think she was taken."

* * *

**AN: Thanks to kimmie43, Sunflower, and kyla713. I don't see this fic going too long, maybe ten chapters or so. Thanks.**


	2. On the Counter

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Chapter Two-On the Counter  
**

* * *

The text came just before midnight and Bella was out of bed before she finished reading it. She grabbed her keys from her nightstand, ran toward her closet, and threw the door open.

Breathless, a sense of foreboding made her body shiver. She knew it would happen soon and she'd prepared for it since the move to the area. On the tips of her toes, she grabbed something from the top shelf. The box was heavier than she remembered. Twice, the keys in her trembling hand missed the intended target, but on the third try, the lid popped open.

The matte black metal looked brand new; a deception, considering she'd fired it more than once. She grabbed the gun and the two extra magazines before she changed her mind. Her quick hands pulled a few things from hangers and drawers. Almost all of it went inside a grey duffle bag except the weapon. She stuffed it against the small of her back, after pulling on a pair of slim jeans.

Bag in hand and shoes on, she made her way toward the loose board in the hallway. On her hands and knees, she pried it up and pulled out a wallet, and all five stacks of cash. She checked to make sure everything was there, as six different versions of her face stared up from various ID's and passports. She'd have to pick one later.

Satisfied, she put it into the duffel back and made her way downstairs. She paused in the kitchen, wondering if she should leave a note for Esme. She might not know many of the people in the small town, but she knew Esme would worry herself sick. After finding a notepad and pen, she hastily wrote a note indicating she'd be gone for a few days.

She tapped the pen on her granite countertop, a recent addition installed by Edward, before he disappeared. He'd been gone for weeks, and she went from upset, to worried, to fucking angry, in all that time. She had considered going up to his remote cabin and giving him a piece of her mind.

You do not kiss a woman—not a kiss, but a claiming—and then leave.

It would have to wait until she returned. She left the note, removed the battery from her phone as previously instructed by her handler. She smashed it with a rolling pin and dropped it in the trash. She looked back at the house that was steadily becoming a home.

"I hope I get to come back."

~oOo~

She'd been gone a week, during which time, Edward lost himself working on her house. The front porch had a fresh coat of paint. The tile he was working on in the half-bath on the bottom floor was almost finished. A layer of a grey grout covered the tile, and while he knelt on kneepads, he wiped the surface clean with a damp sponge.

It was all he could do to keep himself sane. There'd been no word from her but a hastily written note addressed to his mother they had found, fallen on the floor only a day earlier. He blamed himself for sending her running. Hadn't he done the same? Looking around, he saw the changes she'd done herself in his absence. Her office walls ,stripped of their aging wallpaper, now had a fresh coat of paint. The woodwork and custom bookcases resurfaced and stained—beautiful, too. He wondered if someone helped her.

He thought he'd done all the thinking he could do while he was gone. How wrong he was. For days after the encounter on her porch, where he almost lost all threads of control, he pushed her from his mind. At least, he thought he had.

He worked on long forgotten projects and searched the forest that surrounded his home for wood that would make some of his nicer work. Art pieces made from them brought in thousands of dollars, but took countless hours to make them art. He camped outdoors, slept under a blanket of stars. Ignoring the need to see his parents, all while trying to forget an unforgettable woman.

Even as he tried to push her from his thoughts, she was there, everywhere he looked. Her eyes were in the varying colors of wood he found for a bowl he hoped to make for her. Even as he actively tried not to think of her, she was on his mind in some way. He remembered how she continued to talk, even though he offered nothing in return before he ran. The wind that blew around him carried the scent of her light perfume, calling to him.

Why hadn't he come sooner? It was the fear of the unknown. For years, he'd realized he couldn't socialize or even expect any form of a relationship like the one his parents had. He'd come to terms with that and learned to live with the loneliness he felt had blanketed his very existence. He wore it like armor, used it to push everyone that tried to offer him friendship.

Suddenly, there was Bella. In all the years since his safe return home from a war ravaged country, he'd never met anyone with the ability to stir his blood with potent lust and anger. She knew how to push every one of his buttons. Her inability to think before she talked should've annoyed him to no end; instead, he found refreshing. She was honest, the bold and in-your-face kind that garnered an argument just to rile her up.

How many times had he wished he'd find a way to shut her up? Not only did he want to do just that with his sharp tongue, but with his mouth and teeth.

Edward groaned as he remembered the last time he'd seen her, touched her, tasted her. She was so petite and felt perfect in his arms, hair so fucking soft he regretted not getting to memorize the scent of it. His body responded as his mind tried to take those lush memories further, into her bedroom where he'd strip off her dress, as she often left him feeling naked with just a look. Before he could revel in his imagination, it switched, and instead of leading her to the bedroom, he placed her on the porch swing and tasted every inch of ivory skin until she screamed his name.

"Fuck," he hissed, taking a moment to fall back on his haunches. An erection in unforgiving denim and kneeling did not go together. His hand moved over himself and he took a moment to imagine it as hers. Another hiss tumbled from between clenched teeth. He adjusted and tried to expel his demons and desire with work.

Edward had to find her, and though Emmett stated he'd done everything he could, he wouldn't give up as easily.

~oOo~

Bella was exhausted from the flight and drive. The familiar streets felt more like home than the five-star hotel she'd left behind. She spared her new burner phone, one she'd toss after a few calls, a glance and realized it was too late to stop by to see Esme and Carlisle.

Her mind didn't want to wander toward their son, but yeah, her heart told her head to go fuck itself. She rolled her eyes at the way her mind worked. "No wonder he calls you crazy."

She took a moment to look in the rearview mirror and saw the new her staring back at her. It was a look she had for weeks and had gotten used to it. She liked this version of herself and now that everything was officially over, she was free to live that new life. It had to start somewhere, and as she pulled into her driveway and took in the changes, she knew she found her new home.

~oOo~

Bella woke up feeling better and ready to start her day. She showered and dressed in a robe, and realized she needed to do laundry badly. She turned on her stereo on the way to the kitchen, determined to make some breakfast. A quick tour of her house indicated that construction had continued since she left. Did that mean Jacob or Edward? Whom did she prefer?

It mattered little, since she wanted to kick both their asses. She popped a hip and swirled around as the music lent a beat for her to move. "We can't stop, we won't stop." Ignoring the tickle of guilt she felt for leaving as she did, she started to raid her fridge. She hummed along to the almost hypnotic beat of a pop song and pulled out a few pans.

Lost in the task and the music, she didn't hear someone call out for her, nor had she realized someone was watching her until she felt the hair rise along the back of her neck. She ignored that, too, hoping it didn't show that she knew he was there.

During the few weeks he worked for her, she often felt he was watching. Sometimes she'd catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, and the second she'd start to turn, he'd disappear. The asshole had done enough running and it needed to stop. She felt some anger directed at her, and knew she'd have to explain herself.

Didn't mean she'd make it easy for him.

She pulled the pan of fluffy scrambled eggs off the heat and plated them, licking her finger when she accidently caught the edge of the pan. Just as she turned off the flame, a pair of rough hands grabbed her around the waist, and as she spun around, she found herself suddenly on the countertop.

Her hair tumbled over her eyes and she tried to blow it away, since her hands were on his biceps. His angry hunter eyes were positively on fire. She knew right then how much trouble she was in, and instantly, her anger rose. After one last squeeze at the muscles that twitched under her fingers, she moved them slowly over his shoulder and down his chest. Meeting his glare head on, she pushed him hard.

He stumbled back a step, but instantly returned in front of her. His breath was ragged as he tried to hold back his anger. "Where have you been?"

She folded her arms across her chest, trying her best not to squirm. It was hard to do when his entire frame held her captive. Strong, able hands rested on each side of her hips on the counter. Her knees pressed on his warm stomach, against the very hard ridges of muscles.

"Why do you care?"

He glowered and shook his head. His beard was longer; a sign he hadn't trimmed it since he disappeared. Even his hair was a mess, but the bruised skin under his eyes concerned her the most—the kind that meant he had plenty of sleepless nights under his belt.

"I'm not having _that _argument with you right now." His hands moved closer and she gasped as he spread them over her bare thighs. Without thought of the consequences, he spread her knees apart and stepped within the inviting shape of them. She shivered as his breath fanned over her face. "Where were you?"

Her eyes rolled when she felt his hips flex slightly, the hard ridge of his cock teasing. "Step back," she whispered, trying to move back enough to breathe. She cried out when she hit her head on the cabinet knob behind her. Concern banked the fire in his eyes and a warm hand lifted from her shaking thigh, massaging the tender area and his nose sliding along hers.

"Why?" he asked, closing in even further. His voice was rough from disuse; she knew what that felt like. She shook her head, confused about the question, only remembering she was angry with him and said as much. He was too much and too heady for her to think coherently when he was so close. "I-I'm sorry." The words were softer and lower than before. A startling combination of rough and soft hair from his beard left a wake of fire along her jawline as he gently nibbled on her earlobe. "I was scared." Every word punctuated with a thrust of his hips.

As far as apologies went, it was the best—the ass.

"I'm still mad at you." A moan escaped, though she desperately tried to contain it. God, he felt so good.

"I know." The words tortured the too hot and sensitive skin on her neck. "I deserve it."

She nodded in agreement, refusing to lay a hand on him until they talked. It was futile as he continued to whisper words not meant for her to hear against her shoulder.

"But so do you," he hissed as he pulled her to the very edge of the counter. She felt more of him. "You left without a word, scaring my parents and…" He shook his head, exhaling sharply against the crook of her neck. Her nipples tightened under his breath, goose bumps spreading down her arm.

"And what, Edward?"

He said nothing, only masked his answer with a gentle scrape of his teeth on her shoulder and another thrust.

"You need to stop, I think," she moaned, though she forgot why he needed to such a thing. Her head fell back, unknowingly allowing him further access. Something he took advantage of with a swipe of his tongue over her thundering pulse.

Edward breathed in deeply, gathering control. The vision of her dancing around in a miniscule robe when he arrived to work on the bathroom was too much. Weeks without seeing her hadn't diminished his desire for her in the slightest. Seeing her swaying hips, hearing her angelic voice singing along while she cooked, he never wanted anything more. His first thought when he saw her was to touch her, followed immediately by his anger.

In an attempt to give her space as she requested, he pressed one last kiss on her shoulder and made to step back. She had the softest skin, lightly fragranced with scented lotion. She gave off heat that called to his cold-to-the-marrow body.

His hand reluctantly left the silk of her wild curls, but his fingertips lingered over the goose bumps on her arms.

"We need to talk."

Her reply was a heavy sigh. "Yes."

"I'm sorry for," he started and shrugged. "For scaring you."

She laughed and swept her hair up in one hand, releasing it after a few seconds. "I knew you were there, Edward."

Confused, he tried to step away further, only to find that she had him caged by her long legs. Her ankles locked at the small of his back. "Then why are you pushing me away now?"

"Like you said, we need to talk." She looked down, grabbed onto a belt loop of his jeans to pull him closer. "And I was close to coming, since I'm not wearing anything under this."

The words rattled his fucking brain and he snapped once again. He captured her face in his hands and slanted his mouth over hers. It was almost brutal, but from her answering moan and the way her hands curved his ass, he knew she loved it. Her mouth tasted of vanilla, mint, and coffee, an intriguing combination. With lips as soft as satin, she proved she was anything but soft as she bit his bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth. His groan reverberated between them, making her cry out when he did the same. He eased the sting with a tender swipe of his tongue and he lost his head further as her fingers rose gently to scratch at his bearded jaw.

To breathe and give himself a moment, he pulled away from the temptation of her mouth. "I have to make you come." His hands dropped from her face and slowly swept up her thighs, fabric bunching around his wrists.

His hands settled on the tantalizing lines where her hips met her thighs, his thumbs brushing between them. "Oh, God," she moaned and fell back on her hands, her head resting on the cabinet behind her. The angle allowed her to watch. "You don't fight fair."

Bella nearly expired at the way his eyes darkened and his lips twisted into a crooked smile. "Never said I did."

"You don't say much."

He cocked an eyebrow and returned his gaze to the space between them. Why was she talking anyway? "Otherwise occupied now," he murmured and teased her further with another brush of his thumbs over her most sensitive skin. "Hold on to something."

She did, but thought her sanity was long gone.


	3. Interlude

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Chapter Three-Interlude **

* * *

Bella's hands held onto the edge of her counter, with a white-knuckled grip, as Edward asked. His dark gaze remained on hers as he bent enough to nip at her knee. The blend of rough and soft of his beard and lips almost tickled as much as it seared her through and through. She moaned as he swept his tongue along the inside of her thigh.

Eyes rolling back, she lifted one hand to hold onto the cabinet behind her head. "Edward," she groaned and hissed on her next breath. He soothed the bite of his teeth at the top of her inner thigh with the wet and welcomed heat of his tongue. "Oh fuck." His chuckle had more curses slipping out of her, the vibration a damn tease of things to come—hopefully her. It wouldn't take long for her to finish. It had been so long since she'd felt such pleasure and she never had someone lavish so much attention with his mouth.

His hands spread her knees further apart, opening her up as his fingers danced up her thighs. As he licked and hummed, he filled her with two and made her cry out. Unable to hold back her sounds, she gripped the edge of the counter tighter, bucking her hips. She begged with each lift for more of his mouth and tongue. He delivered a sucking kiss, sealing his lips around where she throbbed.

"So close," she moaned, delving her fingers into his too long hair. It curled around his ears, felt soft beneath her touch, but she encountered something rough and out of place. Before she could examine the scar further, he shook her hand away and stared at her. She wanted to apologize, but he thrust another finger inside her. Her capability to talk disappeared.

She fell forward, grasping his shoulders for support. His mouth joined the gauntlet he wanted her to sit through and enjoy. It was too much and not enough; such conflicting thoughts flitted across her mind. Her ability to even think or process anything started to diminish under the guidance of his tongue and lips.

After a several minutes of the most intense experience in her life, he rose to his full height, and already she missed the feel of his mouth on her. His eyes remained on hers, his fingers still deep inside her. She watched the tip of his tongue sweep across his full bottom lip. Her body shook and she grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled him to her. If he planned to protest, he had plenty of time to do so, but he didn't. Instead, he looked as if he dared her to kiss him with evidence of her arousal all over his mouth.

Instead of kissing him, she bit his bottom lip, tugged and sucked it between hers. Surprised by the move, his answering groan was deep enough for her to feel it rumble in his chest. His free hand lifted to twist into her hair and he stroked his tongue along hers, in the same rhythm of his fingers. Her thighs clamped around his hips, holding him to her. His fingers thrust harder, faster, as he captured every sound she attempted to make. When she could no longer breathe, she broke away and called out his name as she shattered. It almost felt as if something had pulled her apart into a thousand pieces while simultaneously being pushed together. She felt equally dizzy and as if floating on some cosmic fucking cloud.

His breath was ragged against her shoulder when she landed back in her kitchen, his lips testing the skin there with nips and licks. "Let me have you," he said with a voice that was more groan than a whisper. "Need to be inside you."

"Yes," she said. His fingers started to move again, working her with gentle and shallow thrusts.

"Bella!"

Edward cursed, and suddenly, his fingers and amazing mouth were gone. He grumbled as he settled her on her feet and turned away. Dazed and confused, he started to walk out of the kitchen, taking a moment to adjust himself.

"What the hell?" Bella hissed at him.

He poked his head around the corner and gestured toward the front door. "My mother is here, and I'm not fit for company right now." From the sound of his voice, she'd have to agree. He cocked his eyebrow as if the reason why should be obvious.

"Oh."

"I'll be in the bathroom finishing up."

"Bella!" His mother knocked on the thankfully locked door even louder.

"You'll be _finishing up_?" she teased, giving the length of his body a look.

"I can't control myself," he nearly growled and stomped further down the hall. "And don't think for a moment that we're not talking later."

"I'm happy to know that you're not one to eat and run." She rolled her eyes as he choked and called her a tease under his breath. "No, I'm not, since I plan to deliver." He only nodded, before closing the door to the restroom with him safe inside.

No longer distracted by the bulge in Edward's jeans, she tried to straighten out her robe. "I'll be right there!" she called out, hoping Esme heard her. She ran into the laundry room, managed to find some cut off shorts, and pulled them on along with a bra.

She used the time to clear her head. The faux story of her troubles away from her home replayed in her head. She had to make sure she didn't contradict herself. It was hard to lie to those she cared about, but if she wanted to stay alive and keep them safe, she had little choice in the matter. She still hadn't decided what to tell Edward. The man had her twisted up.

She pasted a pretty little smile on her face, hoping that dancing would be a plausible excuse for her flushed appearance. She could do little about the bird's nest Edward created with his hands but to finger comb it. She took a deep breath, composed herself and pulled the door open.

"Esme!" she said, and the woman in question immediately pulled her into her arms. Bella welcomed her warmth, despite the five-alarm fire in the kitchen only minutes before. It had been far too long since she felt an inkling of a mother's love.

"I thought something horrible happened to you."

"I left you a note," Bella tried to reason. Esme would have none of it.

"You left your purse here!"

"My license was with me, the one I had in that purse was an old one I thought I lost." Bella instantly came up with a plausible explanation, cursing herself for not grabbing it. "That's the curse of having too many cute purses and wallets." That part was true, at least. It was one of her indulgences in her past life and one that she tried to curb in her new one, with little success.

"But you wouldn't answer your calls!"

"I lost my phone and decided to change my number since it wasn't local," Bella stated, leading the distressed woman toward her kitchen. "Why don't you have a seat? I have a pot of coffee brewing now."

"Where's my son?" Esme asked as she followed Bella. "Has he said anything to you? Was he rude? He wasn't exactly happy to see that you left."

"He hasn't said much," Bella answered honestly. "But he apologized for leaving without a word."

Esme's eyes lit up and a smile spread, leaning forward to whisper. "Personally, I think he deserves it if you don't forgive him immediately. Play a little hard to get."

Bella hid her cringe and her red cheeks with her hair and turned away to grab a few things from one of her cabinets.

"I'll go check on him," Esme said, dropping her purse on the kitchen island.

"Don't," Bella said, holding up her hand. "He wasn't in the most talkative moods earlier."

"Oh no, he's angry."

"I hadn't called and I worried you," she said, hating how easily the lies fell from her lips. "Not sure, but maybe working for a bit will calm him down."

Esme agreed, and sat in one of the tall chairs and chatted for a few minutes with her. "Are you going to explain where you went so suddenly?"

Bella sighed and had to look away from Esme. There was so much affection and concern on her face. "There was a family emergency."

"I thought you didn't have any family."

That was true, but she already had the lie poised on her tongue. "That's true, but I meant, my best friend. She was like a sister to me. She passed recently, and I had to go sign some paperwork. Her old house sold."

Angela was dead because of her, but there was no way Bella could tell Esme that. The house that her only true friend left her had sold; that wasn't a lie, except that the sale happened months before. She left for another reason. One she couldn't divulge to the incredible woman in her kitchen.

"I'm sorry to hear about your friend," Esme said as she walked over and took the pan from Bella's grasp. "Why don't I finish up with breakfast and you go get cleaned up?" Utterly grateful, Bella wrapped her arms around Esme, catching her by surprise. She only laughed and returned it just as fiercely. "And check on my son while you're at it. Maybe he won't be so gruff if your pretty face pops in to say hello."

Bella smiled and laughed. "I wouldn't be too sure of that."

Esme's slow blink made Bella's grin widen. "Well, that might be true. He isn't especially…um, what's the word I'm looking for…"

"Nice?" Bella teased sarcastically, shaking her head. Esme looked worried. "Don't you worry, I can handle the brute."

The relief on Esme's face was instant. "You might be just what he needs. I'm just worried."

Bella held her hands over her chest. "No matter what happens between your son and I, nothing will change our relationship." She could see how much Esme wanted to believe her.

After freshening up, Bella exited her bedroom eager to have a homemade breakfast from Esme. She couldn't remember the last time someone cooked for her. It warmed her heart, and before tears had a chance to form, she took a deep breath to calm down. She'd been on an emotional rollercoaster for days, and it was time to get the hell off.

Before she made it down the hall, a shadow loomed over her. She looked up to see that Edward was not pleased to see her.

"What did I do now?" she asked, popping a hand on her hip. Esme was right. She shouldn't make it so easy for him to get into her pants.

"You lied to my mother. All of it."

Bella stilled and had to work to keep her face from showing how hard her heart had started to pound. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You lied to her about why you had to leave." He stepped closer, toe to fucking toe. She wished she had her shit kickers on, too. Her ballet flats were a joke compared to his scuffed black boots. She started to shake her head, but he pushed her against the wall. His lips touched a magic spot below her ear. "Yes, you did. I want the _real _answers."

She pushed him slightly, meeting his darkening gaze. His eyes, however, were on the rise and fall of her chest. Dressed in a pretty top that showed just a hint of cleavage, she might as well have been on full display with the way he looked at it.

"Eyes up here, buddy," she said with a little taunt in her voice. His narrowed eyes met hers, a slight curl to his lips. She had no freaking chance, since his mouth cut off any protests she might have had, even if she couldn't think of any. He lifted her high against the wall with a hand on her ass, the other one hitching her knee over his hip. The hypnotic grind made her knees shake and she decided that if she'd didn't survive this round, she was all right with it. His kiss was deeper, the thrust of his hips harder. The speed in which he moved slowed, though, driving her mad.

Finally, gaining some strength, she bit his lip. "I'll s-scream if you make me c-come." She could barely manage a damn sentence. He was obliterating her abilities to form coherent words.

It was her turn to taunt him. She knew he wouldn't do it, since his mother was downstairs. Her eyes widened when his hand pulled her shirt and the cup of her bra down, exposing her breast.

For just a moment, he read the shock on her face and appeared pleased with himself. It ended as his eyes could no longer resist looking down, his tongue lashed over her skin immediately.

To prevent her from making a sound, his free hand closed over her lips. Her eyes rolled as he continued to torture and pleasure her, and his hips kept her pinned to the wall since his hands were busy. Calloused and strong, his free hand moved over all the soft parts of her with precision.

The sheer will it took for her to slip her hand between their bodies froze when she encountered his cock, thick and hard, long and perfect. She wanted it, wanted him. His groan was a vibration around her nipple, giving her space to breathe and quickly act on an impulse. She pushed away slightly and fell to her knees. The questioned poised on his lips mingled with curses as she pulled him free and into her mouth.

"Fuck," he hissed as he braced his forearms on the wall, his head between them. She watched him watch her, his eyes following the thrust of his cock into her mouth. "Christ, not going to last." Her hands slid over his jean clad thighs, lightly scratching and squeezing. His next thrust was a little harder, a little deeper, but when she sucked him in further it made his knees shake. He widened his stance, shoved his jeans further down his ass with an impatient hand. She smiled around him, making him hiss and moan at the tease of her tongue. Her fingers continued up his thighs and around his bare ass, squeezing hard while pushing him further in her mouth. He came in a rush of curses and mumbled versions of her name after a several erratic thrusts.

"Goddamn," he rasped as he stumbled back against the adjacent wall. He watched as she licked her lips and winked, smiling all the while. "Do you do that often?"

The tone held implications and that had her on her feet and in his face. "Fuck you, Edward." She turned but before she could get away, he spun her around again. She tumbled into his arms, and he kept her there as he tried to say something.

"I didn't mean it that way."

She nodded, unsure of what to do or say next. "No matter how you said it, I still would've taken it wrong. I don't do this." She righted her shirt as she pushed away from him. "I haven't exactly forgiven you for your kiss and run act, and I don't know what to make of _this_ now."

"It's nothing. I can't be anything." He cringed. "Fuck, I don't do this, either." He looked away as he tucked himself inside his jeans and rubbed a hand over the scar on his head. "I can't do any more than this, though. Be in a relationship, I mean."

"So, I'm a fuck buddy," she said with a little edge in her voice. What happened to the man in her kitchen who was all apologetic and regretful? "You know what? That's something we can fucking agree with. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to clean up _again _before seeing your mother downstairs."

"Bella," his voice was now a mere whisper. "I'm sorry I can't give you more."

"You've said that and now we established that we can't do any more than sex and work. Apparently, I can live with that. I don't deserve it. I don't care, though. It's been so long since I felt something so damn incredible that I don't care." She prayed the tears in her eyes would stay within her. Where was the end of this rollercoaster ride?

He nodded and gruffly said, "It did feel good, and I don't care, either." That hurt her more to hear than she'd ever admit. She was fucked. He shrugged and asked, "Can you warn me when it's no longer enough?" She laughed before she slammed her bedroom door in his face.

~oOo~

Edward realized he was a Grade A asshole. His mother read the tension between them once Bella came down for breakfast and left promptly, as if she was unsure she'd survive the storm that seemed to brew around them. Everything he wanted to say turned to ash on his tongue, and instead, words he would never say to a woman came out.

Taught and raised to respect women, he'd always had. There had only been girlfriends in his life, never hook ups, or as Bella labeled them, fuck buddies. After he left the army, there had been no one. He could no longer stand the idea of being touched. Especially his scars, and that morning proved he still couldn't handle it. It was Bella and the thought that her touch repulsed him, even for that small moment, was enough for him to ask himself what the fuck he was doing.

He tried to put up a barrier between them in the hall, and it seemed to have worked. She couldn't even look at him.

"We have to head down to the Home Depot for you to pick out your sink and the rest of your tile came in today." He watched as she moved about the kitchen, cleaning up after their breakfast. She declined his offer to help and she had yet to say another word to him since his mother left minutes earlier. He pushed his plate away and rose to set them on the counter beside her.

"Give me a few minutes," she stated, staring out the window. Perched on a branch just outside of it was a tiny bluebird with a dandelion in its beak. He pulled away from her and the weighty silence that enclosed around them. Under her breath, he heard her whisper, "Make a wish." The bird turned a few seconds later, catching the wind and carrying their wishes away.

He had to know. "What did you wish for?"

"To really live."


	4. Some Truth

**Something's Gotta Give **

**Chapter Four-Some Truth**

* * *

"Are you going to tell me where you were?"

His voice was rough, tinged with an edge she thought she'd helped soften earlier. She would've preferred that he went back to the brooding silence for the moment. Her head was pounding as hard as her heart.

"No, probably not."

What was wrong with her? Hadn't she been through enough? She hadn't meant to agree with him, his terms. She hadn't done the friends-with-benefit thing in a while. Even then, the benefits were often one-sided and never lasted for long. Not that she cared at the time.

Anger had gotten the best of her, making her bite back. He brought out the worst in her and had since he pulled his disappearing act. It didn't matter, anyway, because there was no going back. Not after she had a taste of him, and that meant the possibility of utter destruction. Yet, she found herself not wanting to put a stop to any of it. It had been too long since she felt something like the pull between them.

Was it a mistake to befriend anyone in the small mountain community? There was always a chance that everything could go to shit and force her to run. She couldn't find it in herself to stay as isolated as she had been since her last move. She had a chance to make a new life, and with a few precautions, she could live a fulfilling one.

"Bella." There was no getting away with saying nothing. Something told her he wouldn't let it go until he had answers.

"California," she answered when he glared at her.

"Don't be a smartass right now."

"You need to choose, am I crazy or a smartass?"

Edward grunted as he took the next right a little hard. "Apparently, you can be both."

"Southern California," she said, looking away from his profile. He was too much for her to handle. Even as hurt as she felt, she wanted to climb onto his lap and taste him again. To smooth away the lines that bracketed his mouth and the corners of his eyes, unless she helped put them there by making him smile or laugh. She had yet to sample that rough looking spot where his neck met his shoulder, too. If things continued the way they were, she would have a chance to later.

He said nothing more, seemingly angry, and proved it when he turned up the radio. The hour-long ride would be a long one.

"—_this occurred shortly after the verdict and the sentence hearing was set for Monday morning for Riley Biers, who was found guilty of first degree murder—"_

Edward changed the station, grumbling about stupid violence. His surly mood made hers start to crumble. Hadn't she just wished for the ability to really live? A person couldn't do that if they spent all their time being angry. For him, it seemed to be a constant state, yet he was going out of his way to help her. She didn't know Edward well enough to say for sure, but she'd seen the way he was with his mother. He had a natural instinct to protect and care for others, even if he often didn't want to.

Bella thought she was likely a shock to his way of life. His mother shared more of his story, despite her protests. She didn't want to know from a third party. She wanted to hear it all from him, but his mother seemed determined. Esme stated that Edward had been outgoing growing up, had friends, a few of the female variety, and dreams. It was a shame Bella never saw that side of him.

He joined the army, along with some of his high school friends, but was the only one to come back. His return home to Chicago was short-lived and lasted about as long as his rehab. Shortly after a doctor visit, he found a mountain retreat and left.

After almost a year of no visits and a monthly call from their only child, Carlisle and Esme packed and moved to the mountain community, the halfway point between a hospital and the lonely cabin where Edward lived. That was four years earlier, and Esme said she never regretted it, since she loved the area.

A sharp crack of static pulled Bella out of her thoughts, as Edward settled on another station, pointedly ignoring her. All the while, his jaw was tight and the hand that gripped the steering wheel was white-knuckled.

"If you don't stop being so grumpy, I'll have to relieve you with road head." She slapped a hand over her mouth, not at all expecting that. It wasn't often when she surprised even herself.

He almost swerved off the road and his next words were spoken in a hiss, "Fucking hell." He shifted in his seat once he righted the truck. "I warned you about that damn mouth of yours."

Bella tapped a fingertip to her lips, as if she was trying to remember, glad that some of the tension melted away from Edward's shoulders and jaw. "I think you promised that we wouldn't surface for days."

"Only you would see that as promising." Edward shook his head, once again shifting around on the truck bench.

Bella would've patted her back if she didn't know he'd get angry about it. Instead of continuing as he probably expected her to, she only smiled and turned up the music. He said nothing more as she sang along, but a few minutes later, he turned the volume down.

When she looked questioningly at him, he replied with a simple, "I like how you sound better."

Internally, she freaking swooned, but on the outside, not so much, since she wasn't sure how he'd react. He did state that he couldn't give her more, but his words were a step toward "more." She shrugged off the compliment, but thanked him before she continued. It was hard not to notice the way Edward always changed the station when they reported the news. It didn't matter if it was local or national, he refused to listen to any of it.

"Nothing but violence," he murmured the answer to her unspoken question.

His words made her cringe, because if he only knew the things she'd done to stay alive. How would he feel about her then? Was it fair to start something with him, even if it went nowhere?

"_I'm sorry I can't give you more." _

Bella heard the words again and decided to tell him a little, especially since this last trip held the hope of freedom. It wasn't because she felt he had a right to know, but for Esme, in case she had to run. She hoped it wouldn't come to that, but she knew Esme would genuinely panic if she suddenly disappeared.

She tried to stir up conversation since they'd been on the road for a while. Even with the speed at which Edward drove, they still had about thirty minutes more to go. "I know what you mean. You can't turn on the television without something violent on."

His nod was barely perceptible, but his words were not. "Can you please sing for me?"

The vulnerability in his request caught her off guard, as did his imploring green eyes in the rearview mirror that watched her. Other than some choir in high school, no one had heard her sing, other than the few who'd lived with her in the last decade.

She continued the moment he found a suitable song. It was hard not to sigh when he whispered a soft "thank you" when she did as he asked. She didn't know what to make of any of it.

Well into the second song, the vibration of her cellphone alerted her to an incoming text message. Her breath caught, but she was able to disguise it with the lyrics. She checked it and worked to keep from reacting.

_I may have been compromised. Get rid of the phone and use alternative method of contact. _

She typed out one word and sent it. _Password_

Her heart was in her throat as she awaited his message. _Good girl. It's Giles. _If it weren't for the circumstances, she would've laughed at the Buffy reference they agreed to use. Had he used Wesley, she would've had to run.

"Bella?" Edward watched her for a few seconds, but returned his gaze to the road. "Is something wrong?"

She had stop singing. "Sorry, didn't mean to get distracted."

"It's fine. Any chance that whoever you're texting is the reason you left?"

She had to take apart her phone, every second it remained on could lead someone to her location. Even if they were already several minutes away from the small town, if they were coming for her, they'd ask questions in some of the surrounding areas until they found her.

Discreetly, she crossed her legs to hide the fact that she was removing the battery from her phone. Her handler said that they could force a phone to turn on as long as the battery was in it. "He's part of the reason." She loathed lying and decided right then to attempt to avoid it as much as possible, half-truths could work. At least with Edward, because he seemed to know when people lied. There was no way she could tell him everything now. If there was a problem, the last thing she wanted was for him to end up hurt because of her.

Edward's lips thinned as his jaw tightened. "_He_." That was it; he didn't ask who or why. Bella thought he wanted to, but probably felt he had no right or he didn't care. Judging from his tightening grip around the steering wheel, she'd bet on the first.

When he said nothing more for several minutes, she asked, "Are you jealous of who 'he' may be?"

"No."

She had to look out her window to keep from reacting. Apparently, he wasn't the only one that could spot a lie. However, the accusatory tinge to his voice fueled her anger again. She hadn't had sex in over a year, and the last partner was less than satisfactory.

"He's forty-three years old and reminds me of my godfather," she said by way of answer. "Besides, I wouldn't have done any of the things we have if I was involved with anyone else, thank you very much."

She was a little upset, and her biting words made that obvious. Along with what he implied with his question after their encounter in the hall of her home, and his assumption now, he thought very little of her.

"I'm not that kind of person," she added and looked away. The grimace she caught in the rearview mirror was enough for her to know how bad he felt about what he said.

They exchanged no words for the rest of the ride. For Bella, it gave her time to come up with a way to check the personal ads for an out of state newspaper and hope that Alec would be able to chat soon. In that short period, she recalled all the little coded messages he could send her and their meanings. None of it was on any of his records or computers, so unless _he _was personally compromised, she should be safe.

"We're here."

She nodded and exited the truck quickly, snagging a nearby cart as Edward grabbed a large flat one for the tile. It was almost thirty minutes later, as she inspected some wood flooring, when he finally said something to her that wasn't job related. He had kept especially close to her, but hadn't touched her.

"Let's go now," he said. His voice deeper and rougher than ever, but she realized his gaze was on something over her shoulder. There was some asshole leering at her ass. She didn't react since her resting face was damn scary to most. It worked perfectly and sent the man scurrying away.

"Do we have everything?" she asked Edward, noting the anger in his face. She couldn't help herself. "You _are_ jealous." He tried to deny it with a scowl and a flat out no, but she noticed that he refused to meet her eyes. She punched his shoulder as _friends _would and chuckled. "It's all right, I like my men a little rough around the edges. There's really no one rougher than you for a hundred square miles."

He grunted and gestured toward the front of the store. She followed and found her strides didn't even come close to his long ones, making it hard to catch up. As if he realized it, he slowed and offered her a shrug as an apology. Speechless as ever, he paid for the materials despite her protest. It wasn't until she started to load up the materials in her truck that he spoke again. "Let me do it, before you get hurt."

"I'll have you know, I have lugged my cameras and equipment around all by myself for years." She even flexed her bicep, but he looked unimpressed.

"How old are you?" he asked, continuing on his task as if she said nothing. He even went as far as blocking her every time she tried to help, with his backside. She was ready to smack it if he tried that again.

"Hasn't your mother told you never to ask a woman her age?" She tried to act disgusted, but she wasn't very convincing since he cocked her a crooked smile. _Oh, that's pretty. _His eyes did the crinkle thing, too—nice.

"You are a walking contradiction. You act like a professional when it comes to displaying your work at the local gallery, but you listen to pop music and get drunk with my mother. That shows youth."

"I'll have you know, I'm nearly thirty." He looked at her and waited, just staring. She huffed and averted her eyes, because his were so intense. "I'm almost twenty-seven and I hadn't realized she spiked the lemonade. I listen to that kind of music because the beat is perfect for exercise. Besides I listen to just about everything."

She wasn't angry about his "youth" comment, since she knew her personality gave her age away. "Wait a minute? How do you know how I act when I'm dressed to impress the local gallery owner? The last time was months ago."

He ignored her. Oh, he was looking for trouble. She grabbed a box of tile caps but he took it from her, and immediately turned to put it in the truck. As if she had no control of her body, she smacked his ass and made her way to her door without a look back. It wasn't hard, but she instantly regretted it. She braced herself when she heard his footsteps behind her. Before she could fully open the door, his hand closed it.

His breath was harsh and hot against her neck, his chest an inch away from her back, as his hands formed a cage around her. With him so close, it was suddenly too hot.

"Besides your mouth," he said in a rough voice against her ear, not quite touching her. "Your hands are sure to get you in trouble."

"This hand?" She slipped her hand between them, to the small of her back. There, she felt how hard he was for her, a small moan escaped. His responding curse was thick with need and her knees buckled when he pressed himself against her more fully. "Oh my go—" One of his fingers moved her chin just so, right before he fit his mouth over hers. She whimpered at the bite of his teeth, the thrust of his hips against her ass and wandering hand.

"Fuck," he said and almost stumbled in his haste to back away. He shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face. "Let's go. Half the day is already gone." He opened the door and helped her inside, not wasting an opportunity to skim his hand up her thigh for a moment. He didn't look the least bit sorry for it, either.

He closed the passenger door, but something caught his eye and he bent to pick it up. Turning her attention to her purse, Bella looked over the receipt he let her have and noticed something missing.

"Oh shit," she said and went for the door handle when Edward opened his and tossed the fragments of her cell phone on the seat.

"That's the second phone I've found in that condition. Explain now." There was no questioning how upset he was now.

"You went through my trash?" She tried for righteous anger, but he saw it as an attempt to hold off on telling him anything.

"I thought you were fucking taken, what the hell was I supposed to do? Now quit avoiding this and explain why you've destroyed two phones. Two very expensive phones, for that matter. I've seen these used by the damn military."

She turned to face the window and said nothing. The door slammed closed as he started the truck and burned rubber as he exited the parking lot.

"If you're in trouble, I need to fucking know, Bella."

She had no idea what to do, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "No one can know."

"I can't promise you that."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window. "Then I don't have to tell you shit." The next sounds out of him were a series of curses and even a growl. He had a right to be angry, but she wasn't about to put anyone else in danger. His anger remained for several miles, when he tried to ask again. "We're just fucking, remember?"

She startled when he turned down some dirt road she hadn't even seen the entrance to, and spun to look at Edward. For weeks, as he worked on her house, she'd seen mostly two expressions on his beard-covered face—closed off and angry, which looked like his turned on face. Now that she was witnessing true anger, she felt scared of him for the first time.

The truck came to an abrupt stop, kicking up debris and dust, clouding vision for a few short seconds around them. Her breathing had picked up, but she tried in vain to stop it. Why did she forget to arm herself? Alec told her to always carry her gun.

_Oh God, he's fucking trained in combat. I have no chance,_ she thought.

"Bella," his voice was a gruff whisper, his hands vices on her arms. How did she end up in his arms? Her brain checked in again, and immediately, she scrambled away from him, only stopping as her body hit the passenger door. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Her eyes darted from the window to him. Despite the fact that it looked as if could rain, she could run.

"Don't even think of running, honey. I will catch up. I'm not going to hurt you, I swear." His hand reached out and she tightened her body against the door further. "Who the fuck made you this scared?"

She closed her eyes and tried to gather control. Four years of running and crippling loneliness—Paul did _not _count—had led up to that moment. Body part by body part, she worked each one to a relaxed state, all under his unwavering gaze. The concern in his eyes was real, despite what he said that morning, but the anger was still there. She wasn't sure if it was toward her or those who were after her.

"For you to understand, I'd have to start from the beginning." She ran a hand through her hair and felt trapped. Despite his words, she threw open the door and jumped out. He was quick to follow, and when he realized that she wasn't going to run, he pulled down the tailgate for them to sit down. "I'm not ready to tell you everything, but I witnessed a murder and the killer has ties to the mob."

His reaction was exactly what she expected—silence.


	5. Focus

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Chapter Five-Focus**

* * *

Edward's silence wasn't helping Bella's flight response, considering it was all she'd known for the last few years. Her leg bounced alongside his, but if he noticed her movement, he gave no indication. She jumped off the tailgate and started to pace, waiting for him to even look at her.

"Say something," she said impatient as ever, whirling around to face him. Her hands settled on her hips and watched his brow tighten.

"How does someone like you get involved with a man associated with organized crime?"

She huffed slightly, having been surprised that he spoke up at all. His voice was so cool, almost disconnected. She didn't like that.

"I was on assignment." She waved her hand out dismissively when his narrowed eyes focused on her. Her relief at a show of emotion felt palpable.

"You said assignment, not that you were working."

Did she say that? She backtracked and winced when she realized he caught the slip. God, how she'd survived for the last six years, she had no idea. She wasn't ready to tell him everything. Only enough to get him off her back. It wouldn't be horrible to have some help if the need arose.

"My father didn't know how to raise me after my mother passed in a car accident. He gave me her old camera shortly after she died to give me something to do. I've been taking pictures since I was ten. I started as an artist, barely making ends meet, but I was having fun doing it. Suddenly, I was in the spotlight when I photographed a rock star while we were dating and he allowed me to use those photos art show exhibit, and even bought some for cover art on his album. He helped me get my foot in the door, so to speak.

"I've been in magazines and featured in galleries across the country. I specialized in people, and apparently, had this gift to show the human side of some of the most influential and ruthless people in the world. One afternoon, I received a call to photograph Senator Rayne's son, James, the black sheep of the family that cleaned up his act just in time for his daddy's campaign. It was very hush-hush, only the campaign head knew. Not even my agent did. She was out of town and he wanted me there fast, so I hadn't called her. I didn't hesitate and agreed to meet him at the house. It was a rare opportunity that I couldn't pass up."

"That radio broadcast earlier," Edward said after a brief moment of silence. She said nothing in return. He looked away from her, but waved his hand for her to continue.

She sat down again, but kept some distance between them. "I arrived with my equipment, surprised that James had sent all the servants home for the day. He was determined to keep the pictures a secret until the last possible moment."

She shifted to pull her legs up, facing Edward, but not quite ready to look at him as she described what happened that night. He surprised her by placing her feet on his lap, his hands running along her legs. She didn't miss the way he kept his eyes averted from hers.

"Keep going."

"We spent hours at his home, taking pictures, talking. He was so charismatic, and yeah, I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty sure I would have slept with him." Edward's hand stilled on her calf, an eyebrow rising. "I'm human and he was gorgeous. I went to freshen up, planned to pack up and have dinner with him first. I went back to the game room where I had some of my equipment, and I heard voices. Loud ones, the kind that sends a chill down your spine. I stayed hidden. Riley and his men were after money that James owed his boss. It was something about breaking one of his promises. James begged them to give him time to come up with the money with double the interest, since he didn't want any of his past to touch his family. Unfortunately, James had gotten a little too friendly with Riley's girl, and he refused to negotiate. I don't think he ever had any intention of it, and Riley shot him in the head."

She had to stop; to breathe and gather some control. The tears had long since dried out, and that disturbed her just as much.

Edward broke through her silence. "I don't know the details of the case, but there were pictures involved. I did manage to catch that."

"Yes, in my pocket was the remote to one of my cameras that was still on the bar in the room. I was so fucking scared and just kept clicking it when I heard them arguing. I paid a fortune for that camera, so it was quiet. They had no idea I was doing it. At one point, I started to back away when they noticed the cameras and other equipment. They thought someone was in the house. Riley sent his two buddies to search the house, so I ran."

"How did the police get the pictures?"

"Most of my cameras had Wi-Fi capabilities and sent the pictures straight from the senator's network to my email. So, even though they destroyed all the equipment, it was too late. I already had the pictures sitting in my email."

"You went to the police after that."

"Not exactly. I ran home. My dad had already passed, but I had some friends I could stay with there. It was all over the news. They made it look like a burglary gone wrong, no mention of my equipment or anything, so I leaked the photos a few weeks later."

"Fuck, Bella."

Her hands clenched on her thighs, nearly glaring at him. "What was I supposed to do? I couldn't let that bastard just get away with it. Was James a saint? Hell no, but he also didn't deserve to die like that. He was genuinely trying to make amends. From what my handler and the team put together, they had already gotten rid of my camera equipment. If they had checked my things, they would've seen my name all over it. That's why it took so long to find out who I was. I laid low to see if they would still need a witness. They did. Photography experts argued on whether the photos were authentic or not, but police were looking for the person who took them. I did not intend on coming forward, because the people James mixed himself up with had mob ties. I went to a mentor, a friend of my father's and godfather. Marcus had FBI connections and told me he'd protect me."

"So he stripped you of your identity and made you hide while the Feds built a case against Riley Biers."

"Due process is a fucking joke sometimes. I was in hiding for so long, I felt as if I was in prison. We still don't know how, but they found the safe house of where the key witness for the case was staying. Four agents dead and I shot someone to get away the first time. It wasn't until the second raid that we figured out they had knowledge of all the safe houses. After that, I refused to work with them, snuck away, and went out on my own, with a little help. I started sending messages to Marcus in whatever way I could, keeping up to date on the case thanks to the internet and social media. Then Angela was on the news, since I had disappeared without a trace."

"Allowing Riley and his men put two and two together, marking you and whoever you were involved with."

"Angela was killed first," she said, her throat tight with fear and loss. "Marcus was next. He was the last remaining family I had."

"How did you still manage to testify?"

"Marcus told me once, that if I was in trouble, he had one person I could trust Alec, and I've been working with him, the DA's office, and a few others. They've done everything to keep my face and name out of the papers since this all happened. I still had to lay low, change my appearance since Riley knew what I looked like, thanks to the news."

Edward's eyes roamed over her face and hair.

"I'd been a bottle blonde since sixteen, so I have no idea what my true color is, but I dyed it this color for now. When I testified in court, I wore a blonde wig, though. So if someone was searching for me, at least they wouldn't look for a brunette."

"That explains why you left, but why did you destroy your new phone?" She hoped he wouldn't asked further about _where _she got it.

"Alec's last message stated that he may have been compromised and said to use an alternative method of communication."

"Which is?"

"I'll put an ad in the small town online paper in Nebraska, but I can't do it from my computer or anywhere near here. In return, he'd create an ad to reply."

"I can help set up a program so that if Alec's computer and internet usage is being monitored, they won't be able to pin down your IP address."

"Thank you."

"Does this Alec know where you are?"

She shook her head. "Part of the deal I made with him was that he'll never know."

"I'll do what I can to keep you safe until you hear from Alec, but I need you to tell me everything that's happened since then. Perhaps some work with a gun wouldn't be a bad idea, either."

She answered without thinking, as usual in his presence. "That's not necessary."

"Because you already know how," he stated as if he knew it.

She met his dark gaze and stared at him head on, tilting her chin up. "This is where I tell you to back off until I'm ready to tell you more."

His lips thinned when she refused to budge on the subject. "Do they think you're alive?"

"We faked my death, a car accident, with a body and dental records nearly identical mine." Edward whistled at that; he knew it wasn't easy to pull that off. She ignored that, not willing to tell him about her connections yet. "There was a short forty-five second report on my demise in the news and a two-inch column in the paper. So far, the media hasn't tied my death with the key secret witness that convicted Riley Biers."

"So, why go after your handler?"

"He led me through the courthouse, so they know he's involved. I'm hoping he's just being paranoid or that they're just trying to determine if I'm really dead."

"I'm going to have to check out your weapon capabilities." She tried to protest, but his hand rose to stop her. "You were frozen in fear when you thought I was going to hurt you inside the truck."

"I felt trapped," she said, rubbing her arms to ward off the cold.

"Exactly. I also need to determine that they can't follow your trail back to the mountain top."

She shrugged. "I testified within six hours after I left the house and prosecutors closed with a moving speech that day. The jury deliberated for less than three hours. I was last seen on what would look like a route away from the courthouse, and later that night, killed while I was under the influence of alcohol and drugs. I spent the remainder of my trip taking a very indirect route home, changing alias at every stop."

"You know what you're doing." He delivered his words as fact.

"I've been doing this for six years. Of course, I do."

His hands tightened around her calves. "Funny, James was murdered a little over four years ago." She froze and she had to look away. "You're still keeping shit from me, but I'm going to help you."

That was all he said, but the way he delivered the line indicated she had little choice.

The idea of him helping both warmed her and chilled her to the bone. She could not have another life on her conscience. There was no way she could stay; not only would he be at risk, so would his parents.

As if he anticipated her thoughts, his hands became manacles at her ankles. "You're not running."

She snatched her feet back and turned away from him. Though she was quick to jump off and make her way to the truck, her movements were stiff. "Just take me home."

"Damn it." He said nothing more and joined her in the truck. When he tried to engage her again, she ignored him. Her head was too full of all the shit that was her life and wasn't sure she could make sense of it herself.

Minutes later, he turned on the radio, and when the news focused on Riley's case that time, he listened. When the report ended, he tried again. "Biers wants you dead because you are the reason he's going to prison for life."

She didn't want to talk anymore about it, but knew he'd ask again. "The pictures along with my testimony proved to be too damning for his defense."

"Eventually, you will tell me all of it. I don't care how angry you are, I'm helping you. And you are not running, because if you do, you'll have to continue for the rest of your life."

"I don't think I have much choice. The men he likely sent to check to make sure I'm dead have a personal vendetta against me," she said. "I killed someone's baby brother when they raided one of the safe houses. The other I clipped in the face and he's not looking so good anymore. The authorities are still working to get them on murder for Marcus, Angela, and those that died to protect me."

"Before you testified, where were you last seen, according to them?"

"Marcus and Alec set up 'sightings' of me for a while, but Greece, was a place I frequented when I was working, before all this went down."

"Let's wait until tomorrow before we put the ad in the paper for Alec, just in case."

"If he suspects he's being watched, he'll not likely respond. That's just as much of an answer as any to run."

"All right, I need to do some research on Biers' mob connections."

"They can't be huge if he keeps sending the same men and it took almost a year to figure out who I was. He's smalltime."

"Maybe, but I'm not taking any chances. There's also the chance that Riley's about to turn on those connections and that's why the authorities were so determined to nail him."

"Fuck, you lure in the big game with the smaller fish."

"Exactly," he said, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Until then, we're staying at my cabin."

"What?"

His lips twitched as his jaw tightened. She was pushing his buttons again. "There's no way they can get on my property without me knowing it."

"But…"

He glared at her for a couple of seconds, before returning his gaze back on the road. "I'm going to unload while you pack a bag and grab whatever you need to contact Alec, but you're staying with me."

She hated the situation, even if he was right. "Why do you even care?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not that big of an asshole. You know I want you." His hand slipped up her thigh and he tugged her against his side. "Now that we've established that I'm going to keep you safe, let's discuss our sleeping arrangements."

_Just go with it, Bella. You might not be here tomorrow, anyway._

"We're sleeping?"

~oOo~

Edward needed some space the moment they arrived at her house. He sent her inside while he unloaded. "Is Bella even your name?" he asked before she moved too far. _So much for space, _he thought.

"It was my middle name," she said, shrugging as she unlocked the front door. "My ex said to stick as close to the truth as you can or else you risk messing up."

That had him following her. "Your ex?"

She buttoned up and nearly growled at him. "Will you stop trying to get into my head? I'm not ready to tell you everything!"

"I need to know it all if you want to stay alive."

That fire and passion he'd always admired and cursed at the same time ignited as her fists settled on her hips. She looked like a kitten standing up to a bear; the comparison seemed fitting. "I can do that by leaving right now."

"No."

She threw her hands up in the air. "Why not?"

He tugged her closer, slipping inside and caging her against the door, slamming it shut behind them. "I haven't had enough of you, and damn it, I care."

She really tried to contain herself, he could tell. However, her lips twitched at one corner and then the other. She was well aware of what she did to him.

He groaned and pressed his mouth over hers. She laughed a little at the tickle of his beard, lifting her hands to smooth up along his chest and shoulders. His teeth tugged on her bottom lip, eyes opened wide and on hers. His nose slid along hers, his breath warm against her mouth.

"Pack light," he said, having to clear his throat. "You won't have much use for clothes when we get there." That brought a smile to her face and that only seemed to fuel him to kiss her again. He hadn't felt so possessive and out of his element in his entire life. He'd been to war-torn countries all around the world, but facing her seemed more daunting. "You have no fucking shame."

"None." The whispered word was soft, but there was nothing delicate about how her hand stroked his cock over his jeans. He grabbed her wrist, her eyes narrowing slightly. The small flare of her nose and tilt of her chin was a fucking dare.

She expected him to pull away, so instead, he pressed her hand harder over him. He bit his lip to keep from grunting, but there was no mistaking the rumble in his chest. Her lips lifted into another smile, her eyes roaming every inch of his face.

To distract her, he said the first thing that came to mind. "Condoms." Her confusion was clear in her eyes. "We need to stop for condoms."

"I can't get pregnant, but we can." As if she realized she'd said too much, she turned away and her arms fell to her sides. He lifted her chin for him to see a glazed quality to her eyes. He didn't have to ask. "I was in a car accident when I was a kid, but didn't figure out that the damage was basically permanent until I was older."

He knew that hadn't been easy to share, but she did anyway. It was unfair that she kept giving while he fortified his walls. Then again, there wasn't much to offer her. "Basically?"

"I'm on the pill, but that's just a safety measure. I have less than three percent chance of getting pregnant, even in the most optimal of conditions. I'm clean."

He didn't want to tell her, but he had little choice. "I have a clean bill of health in that department, and I haven't been with anyone in years."

By the look on her face, she knew that, as her hands settled on his hips. The tips of her fingers immediately sought his skin, and he held back the hiss successfully.

"Can I bring my camera and equipment?"

He wanted to see her work. "Yeah, bring it. We can take a tour of the property tomorrow morning." He added with a small quirk of his lips, "Make that afternoon." She laughed, a little breathy, and it heated his blood.

Her hands delved under the fabric of his shirts and lightly scratched his abdomen. The smile on her face turned into a downright smirk when he couldn't hold back the need to groan. For the first time in five years, he didn't mind someone touching him. Yet, the idea of her hands on his scars did not appeal to him in the least.

"Bella," he said, pulling her hands away. He held them both between his and needed the distance to breathe a little easier.

"I've seen the scars, Edward. They won't send me running." _If she only knew_, he thought. "I won't touch them if that's what you need from me." His only response was a tense nod. "Can you tell me where?" His fingers tightened around her wrists for a second, before he released her.

He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, taking another step back. His hands rubbed over his face hard before he pointed to his back with his thumb. She saw those, he was sure of it. His palm ran over the scar that ran from his temple and curled around his ear.

"Keep going," she murmured.

His index finger traced the thin scar along his jawline to the tip of his chin, harder to follow now that his beard was fuller than ever. He noticed how his hand shook as it trailed from his neck and settled on his right thigh and gripped it tight.

"That's it." He barely managed the words, thankful he kept his eyes closed. There was no way he could stand _the look _in her whiskey-gold gaze. He felt her come closer, her hand resting on his chest, where it was safe. Next, her soft lips were feather-light along his unmarred jawline.

"I'm going to pack very light," she said, whispering the words along with a light nibble. "Then we're going to your cabin, but you'll have to keep me warm when we get there." She pulled back as his eyes opened. "Are you up for that?"

"Yes." His hand settled on hers. "You better hurry."

She nodded and ran upstairs. "If you don't have food, do you mind packing a few things from my kitchen?"

He grunted, because he didn't have much. On the mountain, he kept it simple. Soup, stews, and casseroles his mother made to fill his freezer; he only had to heat them in the oven. "I will." While packing a few things from her fridge and pantry, he called his mother. He explained that Bella was going to stay with him to take some pictures around his property. She wasn't successful in hiding her excitement about the idea of them together.

He didn't have the heart to tell her that it would eventually end.

~oOo~

Bella replaced the static-riddled stations with her own voice, laughing at some of the songs he requested. Some of them were so old, but she knew them all—never disappointing him. She felt especially warm tucked against his side as he drove. He was glad that he hadn't broken down and bought a new truck, the kind that had a stationary console, making her current position impossible.

Her fingers didn't seem to be able to stay still on the drive up to his cabin. On occasion, they'd wander over his knee, teasing him. Sometimes, they'd settle along the waistband of his jeans. Twice, she'd jumped up from his side, grabbed her camera, and asked him to pull over. He complied without complaint, loving the look of concentration on her face. She knelt on the seat and lean out the window to capture whatever caught her eye, making him hard at the sight of her ass.

The second time she did it, his fingers took liberties and skimmed along the back of her thigh as she framed up a shot from _his _window. When he cupped her breast in his calloused palm, his groan and teeth marked her shoulder. After that, she hadn't asked to stop again, anticipation making her antsy.

He surprised her when they went through a hidden entrance that led to a rough road to his cabin. She knelt on the seat again, looking out the back window. "You can't even see it. I thought you were going to hit a wall of rock or something.

"I wanted it to remain hidden."

"What are you hiding from, Edward?"

He looked away, because she looked too damn tempting. "No one in particular. I just like my solitude."

"Your own fortress of solitude on top of a mountain. All right, Superman, where's this cabin?"

He rolled his eyes at the name and gestured toward the road. "You won't see it just yet." A few minutes later, he pointed toward the minimally lit cabin. Her mouth fell open and closed, her eyes landing on him.

"I was expecting a tiny little thing."

"It's not huge."

She didn't touch that one, but he could tell she wanted to. "No, it's not a mansion or anything but it's bigger than I imagined. You said you liked simple."

"It has all the amenities, including satellite television and internet. Everything I need."

"I love it," she said, and scooted toward the passenger door. She rolled down the window, his partially down already, and caught a scent. Slowly, she turned to face him. "Any particular reason you're growing marijuana?"

"It's for medicinal purposes." He left it at that, and thankfully, so did Bella.

They pulled up a minute later, and she jumped out quickly when the first drops of rain started to fall. All day, the threat lay in the darkening sky, and finally, it came down. He watched from behind the wheel as she danced in the dimming light of the sun.

"I haven't been able to do this in years," she called out, her hands running over her face. She tilted her head back to catch more of the rain in her hair. She mesmerized him. The thin cover up and dress she wore plastered to her skin. Other than those barriers, she wore no bra, and he caught a hint of lace along her ass.

He left his truck and reached out for her, numbly wondering if it was all some dream. One he'd awaken from in the cruel darkness that often turned dreams to nightmares.

Her arms stretched up over her head, laughter on her lips. The hem of her dress caught on her wet thighs midway up. It tempted him to kneel at her feet and pay careful attention to the part of her he wanted to explore with his tongue again.

She stopped after another moment, whirled around, and saw his hand and arm stretched out between them. Her next move was tentative, unsure, as her fingers slid slowly over his. She whispered his name when he enclosed her small hand in his large one. Their differences became blatantly obvious; his skin two shades darker, hers ten times softer. Despite the rain that poured over them, she was incredibly warm in his arms.

Her mouth found his first, but his hands held her closer and in place to take more of his tongue. She relished in the bite of his teeth, her shuddering breath a clear indication of that. Her hands remained on all the safe places, his shoulders, and her fingers played with his hair at the nape of his neck. Their next kiss lost some of the finesse, but none of the passion. He was hungry for her, wanted to climb inside to warm all the cold parts of him.

His hands slid down her body, lingering on her ass before settling on the back of her thighs. She cried out softly when he lifted her up against him, her legs automatically wrapping around his hips. One of her ballet shoes slipped off into the mud, but neither of them seemed to care. He held her close, his mouth never far from hers as he climbed the stairs and onto the porch. If she hadn't started to shiver, he would've taken her there. Instead, he led her inside knowing they wouldn't make it to his bed; hell, the likelihood of making it past the door seemed impossible.

It didn't matter where they landed; neither of them would leave unscathed.


	6. Torn

**Something's Gotta Give **

**Chapter Six – Torn**

* * *

Bella couldn't help but shiver, her body thrumming with anticipation. She wanted Edward, and even though he promised her nothing, she wanted this thing with him anyway. He'd likely break her heart, and the dangerous thought nearly had her pulling back from him. A well-timed groan of pleasure from him had her answering in kind and giving into her need rather than the logic.

The door closed behind them and he pressed her tightly against it. "Damn, you taste good," he said, his voice not as smooth as before. It sent a shiver of desire through her.

"Y-you sound surprised." How she was able to form a few coherent words was beyond her.

His head shook twice, but his eyes remained on her lips. "I shouldn't be, but you taste better than before." The heated look in his eyes had her wanting to test his control. She swept her lips with the tip of her tongue and hoped he'd lose it.

Perhaps in that loss, he'd face what was happening between them. _Don't count it, _she reminded herself.

"Fuck." He pulled her against him harder with a hand on her ass, guiding one of her thighs high up his waist. She responded with a raspy version of his name and a roll of her hips. He replied in equal measure with a hard thrust of his cock between her thighs. Even wet from the rain, it felt phenomenal, but she needed more.

"Too many clothes," she said as she pulled away, her fingers struggling to work a button on his plaid shirt loose. "Damn it, they're too wet." He placed her on her feet and stepped back, his darkening gaze moving over her with the same precision he did everything else. It felt like a touch, and one that held her frozen. He tore at a few of his buttons, lifting an arm over his shoulder to pull both shirts off at the same time and tossing them aside. She moaned when his tight abdomen came into view, her fingers itching to explore every inch of him.

Giving into her need, she tugged at one of the belt loops of his wet jeans. He grunted and nearly stumbled into her, but caught himself with his palms settling on each side of her head on the door behind her. He watched her fingers lightly skim along the sexy trail of hair that led to what she wanted to taste again.

_Did I say that aloud?_

His hips bucked as if he read her thoughts and wanted her to fulfill her desire. "Christ, what did I tell you about your unfiltered mouth?" _Oops. _His question brought to mind that night at his parents where he threatened to toss her over his shoulder and that she wouldn't see sun for days.

Any embarrassment left her the moment his hands settled on her hips, sliding around to cup her ass. He was far from gentle, his palms rough on some of her skin he managed to touch. She loved how it felt and wanted his hands all over her. They continued up her back, along her sides until he filled his hands with her breasts. The trail was slow and a delicious torture to her sensitive nerves. The heat of his touch over the cold, wet fabric of her clothes surprised her, but she welcomed it with a breathy whimper of his name and a plea for more.

"I'd apologize for the dress—" he said as he roughly pulled at the fabric of her cardigan and summer dress, "but it's keeping me from you." The sound of torn seams nearly rang in her ears, amplifying the need to be free from all barriers.

Bella moaned his name, her head falling back against the door. The air in the cabin was cool against her still wet skin, but his mouth soon delivered the heat she craved and needed. "Please." She never begged for anything in all her life, but there she was, ready to just so he could get her off.

He had to work the wet, torn fabric off her body with slick but warm hands, all the while curses uttered from between his lips. It wasn't fast enough for him and far from it for her. Needing to do something with her hands, she tugged once again at his jeans, finding it difficult to loosen the button or zipper.

"Enough of this shit," he said, his voice rough and deep. He pulled away to get out of his boots, jeans, and boxers, never taking his dark gaze off her. She squirmed under his watchful eyes and continued to push off the remnants of her wet dress that still clung on her hips. His hand lifted and rubbed at his mouth, watching as everything fell around her feet with a soft splat. He was on her the second she was free, one of his hands tugging her head back by the hair and his mouth latching onto the patch of skin over the thudding pulse on her neck.

His lips moved to a scant inch from her ear and whispered, "Are you cold?"

She should have been, still wet from the rain, but she was far from cold. Bella couldn't form any words as he slipped his hand between her thighs, shaking her head in reply. Her knees threatened to give way as two of his fingers slipped her underwear aside and slowly thrust inside her. He captured whatever broken sound she made with his lips, sliding his tongue along hers. She felt his breathing turn choppier as he continued to push her to the brink. Careful not to touch any of his scars, her hands settled on his shoulders, the bite of her nails there seemed to fuel him.

"Touch me," he groaned breathlessly, pressing his forehead to hers and watching her lips part on her next breath. "Put your hand on my c-cock…" His words became incoherent as she did what he demanded. "F-fuck, that's it…just like that." She swept her hand toward the tip of his length, twisting slightly and earning a slew of curses. His lips were almost brutal on their return to her mouth, his tongue as commanding. Just when she felt her body tremble with the need to release, building up to such intensity, his fingers left her. She cried out and tried to keep his hand where it was by clenching her thighs together, making him laugh. "Not this time, Bella. This time, I want to feel you come around my cock."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be too late." The taunt tone in her voice was clear, her own hand slipping down her body where she needed him most.

He stopped her nimble fingers and bit her shoulder then, making her feel slightly delirious. The sting along with the touch of his tongue made it feel incredible. His hands grasped her hips tightly and she saw the war in his eyes, before they closed to keep her from his thoughts. Without a word, he turned her to face the door, his hands placing hers exactly where he wanted them to stay. They were shoulder width apart, over her head, as he told her to spread her legs, too. He shifted her lower body so that her ass thrust out in invitation.

She looked over her shoulder to find his eyes on the last remaining barrier between them. His fingers skimmed along the lacy edge, testing them both. A simple shift of her legs made him hiss, his eyes on her ass as his fingers suddenly gripped the fabric and tearing them on one side in his haste. She wiggled her hips from side to side and kicked them away, and nearly laughed on how his gaze followed the movements. A sound caught in his throat as his hands grabbed a hold of her and he teased her with the head of his cock.

"Oh God, please, please, Edward." Her voice had risen in pitch and volume as he continued to tease her further. A little push and pull had her pleading for more, and he slid his cock over her sensitive skin, nudging her clit with the tip but never slipping inside. Her cheek lay on the smooth, cold wood, the warmth of her skin made the difference in temperature almost hurt. She shivered with anticipation as one of his hands coiled in her hair, pulling at it slightly.

"Hang on," he grunted and thrust inside hard and fast. She bit her arm to keep from screaming, but he only tugged her lips away by her hair. His lips slanted over hers for a hard but brief kiss. "I want to hear you call out my name. It's only me and you this time." Her cheeks flushed at the reminder of their encounter in her hallway while his mother was downstairs. He relinquished the hold in her hair and slipped his fingers over hers on the door while the other tightened around her waist. "You're going to have bruises here." He tapped a short beat along the flare of her hips.

"Yes, yes, please."

Edward was slow to pull out but rough and fast on the return, forcing her to fall against her forearms. His groan was deep, as the move seemed to push him further inside her. His fingers tightened around hers, almost to the point of pain. The kind she had no idea she would like and now that she had it, it would be hard to let it go.

"Fuck, you feel too good," he said roughly near her ear. Instead of slowing down as she expected, he pushed inside her faster, she couldn't believe he had been holding back. She called out his name as the hand on her hip cupped her roughly, the slap of his palm against her clit made her eyes roll back. "That's it," he hummed and sucked on her neck and shoulder. "Come on, give it to me." Bella rested her head on her forearm laying against the door, and pushed her hips back with every snap of his. "Fuck!"

Words were lost to her, but she heard herself say something that seemed to drive him. Her arms would likely bruise and she didn't give a shit. She gathered enough strength to lift their intertwined fingers from the door and grip her breast.

"Fucking hell, woman," he grunted and tightened their grip over her. "No fucking shame, thank God." She trembled as he pinched and pulled at her nipple, his hand ascended her chest and settled around the base of her throat. She moaned her approval as he turned her face enough to slant his mouth over hers. Her eyes clenched tight but snapped open when the fingers between her thighs rubbed her hard. She screamed into his mouth and toward the ceiling when he pulled away to breathe.

Bella's knees weakened as her body gave into the waves of pleasure, as he continued thrusting inside her, only prolonging the head-on crash. He grunted her name against her shoulder a few strokes after her, his teeth marking her once more. How they managed to stay upright, she had no idea. Her body felt depleted, yet energized – sated, but willing to receive more.

Then she was cold. Despite her inability to think straight after that action, she could sense him pulling away and not just physically.

"I'll be right back."

She didn't bother to turn around, just nodded. When she no longer heard his footsteps behind her, she sighed and looked around, desperate to find something to wear. There was no way she was strutting around naked if he turned back into an asshole. Nearly stumbling, her legs slightly tingling, she walked past their wet clothes. No matter how awkward it could be, she was not putting on her torn dress.

She saw a red plaid flannel shirt on a peg by the door and slipped into that before making her way into the kitchen. The glasses were easy to find and she helped herself to water. If Edward didn't like her doing it, he could kiss her ass for all she cared.

All right, she was pissed. She hadn't expected him to pull back so quickly, especially after that. At the very least, she thought he'd be courteous enough to show her where the bathroom was, the ass. She shook her head and tried to wade through the sex haze he left her in, alone.

_What did you expect?_

"I'm sorry," he said behind her, near the sink. "I went to grab some towels and a wash cloth." She looked over her shoulder and saw him looking at her legs, especially her thighs. Placing the glass on the counter, she turned to face him. She shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, but he had to know that him leaving as he did, _seconds _after, would bother her. Still, she had to play it off, because what else was she supposed to do when he looked ready to fucking run.

"You gonna do something with that wash cloth?" she asked, lifting his shirt she was wearing higher to show her the evidence of their interlude on her thighs. His eyes widened for a moment then narrowed as he stalked toward her. Without a word, he lifted her onto the counter and spread her knees apart. "Edward?"

She kept her hands on his arms, watching him as he undid the last few buttons of his shirt for better access. He grabbed her right ankle, forcing her to support herself on her hands. She didn't ask anything as he placed her foot on the cool counter, opening her further for his eyes. He gently glided the soft, warm, and wet towel along the inside of her thighs but kept his eyes on hers. How could such an act be erotic and tender at the same time? She tried to keep her breathing level, but that went out the window the moment he gently cleaned between her thighs. The only evidence of his state was the slight flare of his nostrils and his cock hardening before her eyes. He tossed the towel into the sink and pulled her to the edge of the counter.

His hand delved into her hair as he brushed his lips over hers. "I want you again."

"Yes," she whispered before he teased her bottom lip with his teeth. He partially slid inside her, as if testing to make sure she was okay. "Edward, more, please." His groan matched her echoing moan when he thrust fully inside her.

Consequences be damned, she told herself. She'd been through a lot and pulled through, and she would when all this with Edward ended. Until something gave, she would enjoy it.

~oOo~

Hours later, she woke up in his bedroom alone. From the feel of the cold fabric behind her, she had been for quite a while. She looked at the clock beside his big, comfortable bed and realized she'd only been asleep for a few hours. That meant he left shortly after they showered, fucked again, and she had fallen asleep in his arms.

She had a feeling he didn't sleep much, since his bedroom looked barely lived in aside for the area near the dresser and closet. She wasn't unfamiliar with soldiers suffering from insomnia and PTSD, and had witnessed such occurrences several times. She also knew that it wouldn't be a good idea to call him on it, because he'd likely deny it.

Her stomach decided to remind her she hadn't eaten much since they arrived. They only grabbed a snack between the kitchen sex and the small tour of the cabin he'd given her. She jumped out of bed and went through her bag to find a pair of dark grey lace boxers. They were cute and one of her favorites.

She didn't see Edward on the way to the kitchen, but decided she'd at least look in on him after she grabbed a bite to eat. A quick rummage through the fridge and she struck gold. Within a few minutes, she had some tomato and cheese sandwiches on a skillet as she heated up some homemade tomato soup Esme left for her son. She sang along to the music she had playing from her iPod that was sitting on the counter.

The same counter Edward fucked her on.

"That's going to burn if you don't flip it."

"Oh shit," she yelped and did what he said, blushing at the fact that he caught her staring at the stupid counter. She turned to ask if he was hungry. Dressed in well-worn jeans, he stood there shirtless, his face full of shaving cream about to say something else, but instead she screamed, "What the fuck are you doing?"

His eyes widened and dropped the razor and towel he had in his hands.


	7. When It Rains It Pours

**Something's Gotta Give **

**Chapter Seven—When It Rains It Pours**

* * *

Edward knew his tone would be defensive, but continued anyway. "Shaving, what else does it look like?" Keeping his eyes on the floor instead of on Bella's ass, he grabbed the items he dropped. He hadn't expected to find her dressed in only a pair of minuscule underwear when he came to check on her.

"What for?" She was still hissing at him.

What had he done now? Earlier, after returning from the bathroom, he saw the look in her eyes. The hurt from his quick departure after he fucked her against the door was so damn evident. He knew he hadn't handled it right, but in his defense, he was new to all this. He hadn't had sex in over five years. Even then, he didn't do the whole friends with benefits thing. He had girlfriends, not hookups.

For a brief moment, as he stroked deep inside her, he realized he never wanted to let her go. It scared the hell out of him, considering he had little choice in the matter. She'd leave him when she figured out how much of a damn mess he was and there could be no future. Despite that fear, there was an underlying need to keep her with him. His protective instinct wasn't the only thing that drove him. It was more.

When he slid out of her, he saw the bruises that his too hard of a hold formed on her ivory skin. His mouth and teeth had marked her neck and it felt like a claim. One he hadn't intended to make, but he liked it. He loved seeing his mark on her, and the evidence of what they'd done all over her. The problem was, he wasn't sure she felt the same way. In an attempt to give her and himself some breathing room, he hurt her.

Her question about shaving made him squirm. His answer would make it obvious that he cared too much. He loathed the idea of lying since he'd have to eventually. Maybe he could at least attempt to stall the truth. He wanted to deliver his next words in a not so nice tone, when another thought occurred to him. "Does the idea of my scar disgust you?"

Her eyes widened, but narrowed within a split second. Hands on her hips, the same ones he bruised as he fucked her hard and fast, she gave him a lethal glare. Impressed, he found it difficult to keep from smiling. Her anger never lasted long and it always made him hard.

"I couldn't care less about your scars," she said, clearly frustrated—not that he blamed her. He should have felt relaxed after coming three times. He was wrong. As he watched her hands circle around as she spoke, he knew his frustrations would never cease as long as she was present. "For the love of God, Edward, stop staring at my breasts and look at me." He did, having no idea what she was going on about, but it was obvious he should know. She let out another indicator of her ire, followed by a cute foot stomp. "Why are you shaving? Is it for me?"

He wanted to tell her fuck no, but he chose instead to go with honesty rather than defense that time around. "Well yeah, your skin is all raw from my beard, and if you want further attention between those sweet, sexy thighs of yours, I have to shave."

Edward thought she wasn't listening, appearing dazed. A tiny shift of her shoulders drew his eyes lower. She was clenching her thighs, searching for friction, as if what he said turned her on. He cocked an eyebrow and waited for some kind of response.

"But I like your beard." She was pouting. "I like how the slight burn reminds me of where you've been." Her hand slipped down her stomach, the tips of her fingers skimming the waistband of her lace boxers.

How a conversation about him shaving turned to foreplay, he had no idea. There was no way he would stand there listening to her talk in such a way and do nothing about it. "Come here," he said, his voice lower than before. "Turn off the stove first, Bella."

She did, almost blindly and automatic, as if she'd been in his kitchen countless times. As if she belonged there. He shook away that dangerous thought and watched her walk toward him. The sway of her hips, her bare breasts, and toned stomach had his hand itching to grab hold and not let go again.

"You trimmed it already," she said, lifting a hesitant hand to his jaw. His hands clenched the towel and he tried to keep from barking for her to stop. A part of him wanted her to touch him freely, and yet, he knew he couldn't live with her repulsion. He nodded in reply to her statement. "Come on, I have an idea."

He had a few ideas of his own, but stopped her hand from reaching his face, taking it, and made his way toward the half-bathroom he'd been using earlier.

"Uh, uh, first I need something," she said. Her fingers tightened in his hold, as she led him to his room. Once they reached it, she released his hand and walked over to the dresser. She rummaged in her bag, bent over, making it increasingly difficult for him to remain in control. He felt like an idiot standing by the doorway covered in shaving cream. Ignoring her for the moment, he walked into the attached master bathroom and tossed the towel and razor on the counter. His hands fell on the cool custom granite as he looked in the mirror, the only one in the whole cabin.

What the fuck was he doing? He was catering to her every whim, allowing her control. He needed a distraction before he marched into his room and bent her over the closest surface. Another look at his reflection had him noticing the recent changes. His eyes were brighter, no longer dull as they had been a month before, though the circles beneath them were still dark.

Leaning against the doorframe, Bella touched his arm to catch his attention. In full damn view of the scars that littered his back. His jaw ticked and the urge to cover up made his skin crawl everywhere but under her touch.

"Can you wash that off please?"

He did it without question, though he had a few. Drying off, he waited for her. She slipped her beautiful body between him and the counter, her eyes bright and too observant.

"This is perfect," she said, rubbing one side of his jaw with her soft hand. The one without the three-inch scar, but she slowly lifted her other hand to it. "I can see a little of your skin, but you still have scruff that is sexy as hell." He froze when the tip of her finger slowly slid down his scar, watching her for any signs of disgust. There wasn't any. "The scar doesn't bother me one bit, Edward. So if you want to shave for _you_, go for it. I know you don't shave your beard because it hides it. If that's what you need, I'm okay with that, too."

He didn't want to do it, but he would if he had to for her. "What about your skin?"

She smiled up at him, her hands clamping gently on his shoulders to jump onto the counter. He regretted not catching on quick enough, because any excuse to get his hands on her was a good one. Taking one of his hands in hers, she slid it up her inner thigh with a tiny sly smile in place.

"Take a look, very little irritation." Temptation in the form of her beautiful mouth had him staring at her lips. She laughed. "Edward." To get his full attention again, she slipped his hand higher, until the tips of his fingers dipped under lace.

"Christ, you're killing me."

She fucking giggled, and the sound only enriched his blood further. "Take a look." He did and his mouth watered with the need to sample the tiny little trio of freckles on the inside of her right thigh. "Your skin was red this morning."

"Remember after the shower, I told you I needed a few minutes." He nodded. "I always lather on this," she lifted a small container of cream for him to see, "after a shower. If my skin gets irritated like, say after I shave, I use it, too. Another application and I'll be just fine."

Edward needed a moment, so he read the ingredients. "No wonder you smell so good all the time." She laughed again and draped her arms over his shoulders. Her lips were closer, yet too far away from his. "So you see, you don't have to shave to protect my delicate skin."

He rolled his eyes and slipped both of his hands inside her underwear around her ass. "What's that other tub?" She flushed and shrugged. He checked it out and laughed. "Beard Butter." After quickly reading the uses, including softening his beard, it made sense why she had it. "When did you order this?"

"The day after you left, that night," she replied and refused to meet his eyes. She meant the day he kissed her and left them both wanting, and then disappeared for a month.

He tipped her chin up and waited until she looked at him again, attempting to hold back a smile of his own. There was already an apology and an explanation for his disappearance, and he knew she wasn't looking for another. She felt embarrassed by her initiative.

In a very serious tone, he addressed the issue. "You're pretty sure of yourself." She slapped his bicep and pinched his side. "Relax, relax," he said, wrapping his arms around her tightly, to keep her from hitting him and rubbing herself against his cock. "Simmer down, slugger."

She did, nuzzling his chest and calling him an asshole. He laughed and stepped back enough to look in the mirror. "I still need to shave a little." He tilted his chin up and rubbed the area along his throat. "I want to feel more of your mouth right here."

She leaned forward and kissed him just below his chin. "Right here?" He shook his head, hoping it would encourage her to explore further. Her lips continued as he hoped, and a little suck made his body tremble, but it was the slow stroke of her tongue along his Adam's apple that had him claiming her mouth with a brutal kiss.

It was her that pulled away first, and the slight daze in her eyes was amazing to see. "Uh, uh," she whispered, and picked up the razor. "You still need to shave a bit, remember." His eyes narrowed, but he could play her waiting game.

She moved enough for him to pull out a bottle of shaving cream from inside his medicine cabinet. For a second, he was thankful for the foresight to remove his meds from inside, not wanting to explain why he needed them. She took the bottle, preventing him from sinking to a dark hole whenever he thought of the extent of his health issues. She deposited a nice amount of the cream in her hand and spread it along his throat.

"Is that good?" she asked, still not moving from her position.

"Yeah," he said, turning on the faucet behind her and skimming his fingers over her breast along the way. She moaned softly, slipping off the counter and onto her feet in front of him. "You gonna stay there?" She said nothing, only fingered the button of his jeans. He shrugged and picked up the razor.

"Don't nick yourself," she murmured as he started. His eyes nearly rolled when he felt her lips on his arm. "Keep going."

"Kind of hard to do that when your mouth is on me," he said. She was challenging him, and as much as he wanted to drop the razor and take her, he continued. "Fuck." Two of her fingers traced the outline of his cock. It took a moment for him to start up again, but when he did, she awarded him with another kiss or caress. On the last stroke of the razor, she dropped to her knees and worked to unbutton his pants. "Damn." He groaned when he felt her tongue on him. He wiped the remaining shaving cream off with a towel and then slipped his fingers through her hair. His free hand rubbed over his face roughly, overwhelmed and desperate to feel more. "Just like that, Bella." He guided her, earning a hum of approval. "Fuck."

If he didn't stop her, he'd come down her throat much too soon. Any other time, he wouldn't mind, especially when she seemed to enjoy what she was doing, but he wanted to be deep inside her when he came. Slipping from her mouth with a groan, he lifted her up and walked her toward the shower, and to the convenient steps that led to the large tub in the corner. He tapped her shapely ass, placed one of her feet on the step above, and pressed his chest along her back. She moaned deeply as he teased her from behind.

"Bend forward and hold on," he said hoarsely, his eyes focused on the sight of his cock sliding on her slick skin. A husky whimper of his name had him thrusting inside her the moment her hands grabbed hold of the tub's edge. "You feel so good." He kept a slow, torturous pace, his calloused hands roaming every one of her curves. His lips and tongue nipped along her back. She moaned in tandem with each buck of his hips. He held her close, gently nibbling on her neck and shoulders. His hand curled around a breast and the other slipped between her thighs. "Mine." The word was a chant on his lips her acknowledge of it, drove him to move faster. His thighs burned when he finally felt her clench around him, her hoarse cry echoing in the room. It was all too much and two erratic thrusts later, he spilled inside her.

Spent and utterly exhausted, he had enough strength to lift her up and place her on the bed. His hand swept some of the silky, but messy hair away from her face. She gave him a sleepy smile, flopping down on the mattress. "I can't move."

His laughter caught him by surprise, but he ignored the warning his mind gave him. "I'll finish up with the food, you stay here."

"'Kay," she said, her fingers skimming along his hip. The tiny move had him rethinking his priorities. Her stomach rumbling brought them back in order. "Hurry back." Lying on his bed, with her hair fanned out and looking freshly fucked, he had a hard time leaving. Her eyes fluttered closed, one knee bent while the other fell slightly to the side, giving him one hell of a view.

"Damn," he said and walked backward toward the door. "I'll be back in a few." Unaware of what she was doing to him, she only hummed in acknowledgement. He jogged to the kitchen, and started up the soup and put another frying pan on the stove. After a quick double check to see that he was alone, he grabbed his keys and fished out his meds from a locked cabinet in the mudroom.

He eyed the half dozen pills of various colors with some disgust. There was no reason to tell her, he told himself. She would never know. Things between them would end before it became an issue. If he told himself that enough times, maybe he'd believe it.

~oOo~

"Stay close, Bella," he warned her, once they reached the destination he had in mind. Once a month, he searched his property for fallen trees to harvest for firewood. He supplied about twenty percent of the community's supply. There was plenty in storage, but with winter temperatures falling a little more each year, he wanted more stock on hand.

From the moment they drove up the meadow, her eyes and mind were on the scenery and what shots to line up. For the last few days, they woke up at dawn, usually with her lips around him, or his head between her thighs. They'd have breakfast and head out to explore his property. He marked fallen trees on his hand drawn map, cut firewood, or burs for his art pieces, though she had no idea of that. She'd have her camera equipment with her, lugging it around to get that elusive perfect shot.

"This place is amazing," she whispered. He tried not to be amused. She had the habit of making him laugh, not an easy feat by any means.

"Why are you whispering?" His question had the effect he hoped for, she startled and pouted at him.

"You make me crazy."

"Feeling is mutual," he said, tossing her a water bottle. "Stay fucking hydrated this time. If you faint on me again, I'll spank your ass. You hear me?" She looked at the bottle and back at him with a little gleam in her eyes. "I mean it. We're too far up the mountain if something happens to you."

The day before, they'd gone out to the far end of his property and she fainted. Too focused on her work to realize she hadn't had anything to drink or eat for hours. He blamed himself for not keeping an eye on her while she wandered off. She was absentminded when she was working.

Her gaze softened and he regretted saying anything. She probably thought he cared more than he did. "I'll stay hydrated and close. What are you up to?"

"Going to cut something off of that old tree over there," he said, pointing a few hundred yards away from them.

She cocked her head to one side, a smile playing on her lips. "You seriously think I wouldn't recognize the pieces in your cabin?" He hoped she wouldn't, but she was too observant for her own good. "I have the entire Red series." His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Found them through an art dealer last year. The mysterious artist was the reason I chose this town."

Edward had no idea what to make of that. "Three of your pieces are in my office."

She smiled. "I know." When he waited for her to continue, she rolled her eyes. "Gianna said my anonymous buyer was also an artist and nearly a recluse of the mountain. It didn't take long to put two and two together."

"I want to pick out another three," he said, pointing to her camera. For a few hours daily, she was on her laptop going over photographs. She preferred old school methods, but didn't have the proper equipment to set up a dark room.

"I think I can arrange that," she said, in a voice slightly huskier than before. "I might need some convincing."

"I think that can be arranged."

She danced a little in victory, and looked up at the partially clouded sky. "We're burning daylight."

"Stay close," he reminded her. She was halfway across the meadow when he allowed his attention to wander to his work.

Edward mentally went through his list of things he needed to do by the end of the day, including a quick check to see if Bella's handler had responded to her message. The day before he set up a program to prevent tracing it back to his location and had made a carefully coded listing in the online newspaper. She said it was too soon for him to respond, having agreed to wait at least twenty-four hours between messages in the hopes not to raise suspicion. It wouldn't hurt to be sure; the sooner he knew the better. He had contingency plans if the worst had happened, despite the fact that he'd have to leave his parents behind.

For a few hours, he was busy with work, but he heard Bella singing from time to time as she moved through the trees. His eyes would often wander to where she stood, her back usually to him. She always stopped humming the moment she had the perfect shot and her tongue would peek out before she snapped the picture. Normally, he hated attention of any kind as he worked on his projects, while she didn't seem to mind.

His arms ached sometime later, the clouds darkening overhead. A storm was approaching from the west, fast and full of thunder and rain. That was when he felt it; the subtle signs. _Fuck. _

Bella packed up her equipment, and started toward the truck to put it away. The rain would come soon and Edward would likely be ready to head back to the cabin. Her mind itched to work on the images she took, but her body was humming with another need. The day before, after she scared Edward with passing out, they made love in the rain. She wasn't sure what drove him to ignore the storm. Only that there seemed to be an underlying need to be close him she didn't understand and knew he'd never share with her.

She had no doubt he cared, and that it wasn't only what they did with their bodies that he craved. He asked questions about her, listened and talked to her, seemingly wanting to know her. It was rather refreshing, since her last few lovers proved selfish. He returned the favor, sharing cute memories of his youth, and few embarrassing incidents with some of the locals. There were times he'd shut down, mostly when their conversation turned more serious. He was still leery about sharing anything about his high school days and the friends he lost overseas. She hadn't expected him to open up overnight, so she avoided pushing him. He told her earlier that morning that he hated that he couldn't share more, and she believed him. Maybe if time remained on their side, he could trust her enough with his secrets.

Done with her things, she slammed the door to the truck and went to look for Edward. She had heard him chopping at a stubborn tree stump, but that had suddenly stopped as she made her way toward where she last heard him.

His hand was on a nearby tree and his head hung low between his shoulders. The axe lay a few feet away from him, along with plaid shirt.

"Edward?"

His shoulders bunched and he quickly leveled her with a glare. "Get back to the truck, I'll be right there." His words were harsh and barely decipherable through the clench of his teeth.

"What? Wait."

He shook his head and tilted it back. "For once, listen and get back to the fucking truck!"

That stopped her. He almost seemed scared, maybe something was close by and he was trying to protect her. A bear? Mountain lion? She backed away, whirling and running toward the only sanctuary. The heavens opened up and poured heavy, cold rain, drenching her in only a few seconds. Why wasn't Edward right behind her?

Indecision was a bitch, but instinct had her turning back. Thankful for a damn good sense of direction, she found the way back to the tree stump Edward was working on, even in the pouring rain.

What she saw made her heart drop to her stomach. "Edward!" She scrambled, wet fallen leaves making her slide on unsteady feet. "Oh my God, what's wrong?" His nonresponse made her heart race, as she fell to her knees by his prone figure. One quick look around, she saw no signs of a predator around. No sign of blood, either. Her hands fluttered over his back, until she noticed the way his body was tensing and relaxing. She cursed and turned him to his side, a trickle of blood on the corner of his mouth. Her arms wrapped around him loosely from behind, waiting out his seizure.

Edward stirred a few minutes later, exhausted and his head screamed with the oncoming headache. He felt her arms tighten around him. "How did you know?"

Bella hummed in his ear and answered, "My dad and my ex…" She said something under her breath that he could barely hear.

He wanted to scream at her, to tell her to stop talking about things he didn't want to hear. Shame and downright anger from the injustice of it all wanted to push her away.

"My dad had seizures after a bullet ricocheted into his brain during a robbery."

"Jesus."

"Do you feel them coming? An aura?" It would explain why he tossed the axe away from him and told her to leave.

He nodded, but refused to give her more. If he wasn't so exhausted, he'd drive her down the mountain and leave her at home. Things had gotten a lot more complicated, because he never wanted her to know.

"Let's get out of the rain." She helped him to his feet, the effects of the seizure subsiding other than the headache. "You can tell me about the pot you're growing." She wasn't running as he expected. She heaved his arm across her shoulder, and though he hated to burden her with his weight, he leaned on her. A wave of dizziness kept him from complaining.

"Tit for tat, though. I know you've told me a lot already, but nowhere did you mention a fucking ex-husband."

He watched her wince and go through a series of emotions; anger softened to indignation, then to understanding. "Fine, but you have to promise to hear me out before you go all asshole on me."

He cocked an eyebrow in question, making no promises; he had a feeling the conversation could make or break them.


	8. Learning From the Past

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Chapter Eight—Learning From the Past**

* * *

Bella wasn't sure she wanted to reach the cabin, considering the discussion they'd have once they arrived. Edward's silence was like a third passenger that sat between them, with a blank look on his face. He'd yet to meet her eyes since the moment she insisted on driving after his seizure. He hadn't fought her, but there was no doubt he hated that she had asked. He saw it as a weakness.

Being the kind of man he was, she could understand where he was coming from. He'd always been the one to take care of things, and now, as she drove them to their destination, she was taking care of him.

"You're not supposed to be driving, are you?"

"No," he grunted, leaving it at that. She purposely drove into a deep hole on the dirt road, causing him to curse and grab hold of the "oh shit" bar over his window. He leveled a look at her that would have melted titanium, but instead of cowering as he expected, she met him head on with a glare of her own. His gaze dipped down to her lips, and for just a millisecond, he appeared amused before he schooled his features. "I'd like for us to make it to the cabin alive, Bella."

It wasn't often that he said her name, and she could count the number of times with both hands. Yet, every time he did, often in the heat of a moment and whispered against her neck, she melted. The man had too much power over her and yet seemed unaware of it. Hell, she was positive that he wouldn't want it anyway. She was angry that he kept something so vitally important to his health from her, especially since she was staying with him.

Since they arrived at his cabin days earlier, she had worked up the courage to explain her past to him. Every time she had, she utterly failed when faced with the possibility that he'd send her packing. What would she do then? Turn tail and run; it was something she was good at when faced with uncertainty. Finding a new identity wouldn't be hard, and maybe it was time to leave the states. Her Italian wasn't so bad. Yet, the idea of leaving Edward, sweet Esme, and cute Carlisle made her sick to her stomach.

It was clear that it was time for each of them to face their pasts, and see if there was a possibility of a future. If only Edward would stop appearing as if he was facing an execution, she wouldn't feel so nervous.

It was dark by the time she pulled up to the side of Edward's cabin. They hadn't left any lights on, since they usually made it home just after sunset. Circumstances being what they were, Bella felt out of place, awkward in her own skin. Edward's silence didn't help, especially once the truck's headlights turned off after the engine stopped.

"I'm not going to like what you have to say, am I?"

"It was the past, Edward, remember that going in. It'll only affect _us _if you let it." He only nodded in response, exiting the truck without any assistance. She tried to catch up to him when they reached the door that led into a mudroom and laundry. "Wait up."

"I can fucking walk," he hissed, toeing out of his boots. His hand rose to the collars of his shirts at the nape of his neck, and he removed them, tossing them in a basket near the washer.

"Did I say you couldn't?" she asked, removing her shoes, since there was some mud on them, too. "You were a horrible patient, weren't you?"

"They called me Satan's Twin during my stay at the center," he said. His tone was flat and uninterested, but quick to add, "No idea why."

"Really? I find that so difficult to believe," she said with sarcasm heavy in her tone, pasting a smile on her face.

He walked right into the kitchen, not even bothering to see if she'd follow. The fridge was his destination and its door was almost a casualty of his growing anger. Looking in, he searched the contents inside with unseeing eyes.

"I was a pissed off asshole that wanted out of the damn hospital and away from nurses poking and prodding me with needles and machines. I felt like an experiment and caged in those same four walls."

"So you went about as far from that place as you could the moment they set you free."

He shut the fridge without getting anything, and walked the length of the kitchen with his hands in his hair. Anxiety tensed every single one of his muscles, and Bella had no doubt he was feeling as caged as he had in that hospital.

"How are you driving?" she asked after a minute of watching him.

He spun around as if she startled him. "The weed and Emmett's baby girl."

"Emmett's daughter," she said softly, her heart breaking a little as he explained. She'd only met Jasmine once, and realized that something was different about the little girl. A person wouldn't know it with just a look, but if they watched her, they'd notice she didn't use her right arm much and walked with a slight limp.

Edward's voice was warmer as he told her everything about Emmett's daughter she hadn't known. By the time she reached two years of age, she had undergone three brain surgeries and would always have neurological and other health issues. He explained that the poor little girl would have seizures for the rest of her life. As an alternative to the drugs she was on to combat it, Rosalie looked into using other methods, including a cannabis oil made with a strain that didn't produce the high of regular marijuana. California had waiting lists a mile long, and Jasmine had another two years before they could do it legally.

Edward had already found a friend of a friend, and was growing the strain for his own use. He gave them the oil in exchange for Emmett to turn his cheek about growing it and driving. He had the perfect place for the small crop up on the mountain.

"I take medications for anxiety, but smoking every couple of days helps with the seizures."

"Did you think I'd give you shit about it?" He shrugged, not really looking at her. "Edward, I've smoked pot, too, and not the kind you have here."

His eyebrows rose high, his gaze finally meeting hers, surprised by her revelation. "High school?" he said, stating it like a question.

"Not really, but for me to explain all that, I pretty much need to start from the beginning. Are you feeling up to it?"

"No," he said, roughly rubbing a hand over his face. "I think I need to sit down."

She nodded and made her way around the island that stood between them. Keeping her eyes on his, she wrapped her arms around his waist, just to see if he'd turn her away. He shivered and it broke her heart a little more.

"It's going to be all right," she stated softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. One of his idle hands lifted to the small of her back, a fingertip there swirling in a small circle. He looked down at her, his brow furrowed as his eyes roamed slowly over her face. "I'll leave if you ask me to." His eyebrows rose, as if he couldn't believe that. "All right, I'll bitch for several minutes, then leave."

"Always have to have the last word," he said, leading them to the living room. He sat down, but as she was about to sit on the other end of the couch, he seemed to have second thoughts. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her down beside him. "You're too far away."

Bella always found that moments like this with Edward were rare. From what she gathered in their interactions so far, physical contact was limited to his parents for him since his arrival atop the mountain. She tried to give him space when he seemed to need it, but more than half of the time, he pulled her closer instead.

She had to take a few seconds to make sense of everything in her head. There was no unraveling it or easy way to tell him. "I married my best friend the day after I turned eighteen and he left for basics a month later." Edward's body felt like it turned to stone beside her. "I stayed behind to finish my senior year, and I moved on base once housing was available."

"Jesus, you were an army wife and just a kid," he said, shaking his head, and then eyes narrowed. "Tell me he didn't hurt you." His gaze darkened, and from the tight-lipped words, she knew where his thoughts had led him. He knew from experience.

She tried not to read too much into the fact that he placed her beside him. "He didn't mean to."

"Christ," he hissed and jumped up, but gestured for her to continue as he paced.

Bella tugged on her hair for a moment, trying to dispel the images that started to come at her from all sides. "He was my best friend since I was ten and when he finally had the balls to tell me how he really felt, it was a few months before he graduated. We had a great summer before we married and he left. I visited when I could after he finished Basic, and things were good, at first. It took some getting used to. Best friend or not, I didn't know _everything_ about him. It was like you said, we were kids, not used to _all _of each other's habits. I had the freedom to do what I wanted—work, go to school, and take pictures during his deployment. Anyway, it was after his first tour that things dramatically changed. He was gone for a little over a year and the homecoming was subdued. He'd lost a friend, had seen things. I knew it would take time to acclimate afterward, especially after the first deployment. Some of the other wives warned me. It was the third night that I realized he wasn't sleeping in bed. I checked on him, found him asleep on the couch and…"

Edward had his back to her, but his words felt like arrows. "He attacked you."

A few tears fell, ones she simply couldn't hold back. "He started to strangle me. I got away, but he kept coming at me. He was lost in some nightmare. A neighbor heard me screaming and stopped him." She wiped at her cheeks, clearing her throat. "He came to visit me in the hospital a day later, said he was sorry, and handed me divorce papers. I couldn't go after him."

For what seemed like forever, silence hung between them, her eyes on her lap and away from Edward. He surprised her as he knelt in front of her, cradling her face with his hands, his thumbs rubbing away her tears.

Something in his eyes told her to keep going, to purge the ache away. "He wouldn't answer my calls, and by the time I had a chance to see him, he was gone, transferred." She captured Edward's wrists, and she could see understanding in his eyes. The same look that was in her ex-husband's the day he left her. "He didn't even give us a chance."

"He did it to protect you."

"Maybe, but that doesn't make it right. Anything worth keeping, worth loving, is something you fucking fight for. You don't leave it, _me_, behind."

"And sometimes, you have to let it go." She shook her head and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. Instead, he cupped the back of her neck and pressed his forehead against hers. "You're right, though. Sometimes, it's worth the fight. Maybe he didn't feel he was strong enough, or worthy."

"He didn't want me."

"God, baby, don't think like that," he whispered, pulling her closer and shifting to lie back on the couch together. "He was probably as lost and scared as you were, more so with what he'd seen over there, and thought letting you go would be easier for you to handle than being a burden to you."

"Idiot," she mumbled, nuzzling against his chest.

"There's that, too." He laughed a little, tightening his hold on her.

After a few moments, she continued and hoped for the best. "I couldn't go home, proving my father right. I loved him, but we had a falling out when I got married. I ended up taking off on a road trip, and somehow met Garrett Richards, the lead singer of Flying Eagles."

The American rock band had been around for over a decade, with three records, sold out tours and award winning music. It was rare to find anyone that hadn't heard of the group, or at the very least, one of their songs.

Bella felt Edward stiffen, but he kept up the soothing movement of his hand running over her back. "I've heard of them." She felt him take a deep breath, her hand on his chest moving along with it. "Keep going."

"I'm not exactly proud of the next part, but I ended up on tour with him. I took pictures for the website and I was getting great material and inspiration for a series I wanted to do. I fell into his bed and tried new things, drugs of all kinds, in different cities all around the world. It wasn't until I woke up one morning, no clue what happened the night before, with Garrett and the drummer."

"Fuck," Edward said, his grip tightening around her hip.

She continued, because if she stopped, she'd never get through it all.

"I freaked out and Garrett felt awful, and pushed me away, too. He had me home by the end of the night. In the end, I didn't bother fighting him. I worked for months on several projects, found an agent. I sent a picture to Garrett and he called me immediately, asked to see the rest. He and the band signed over the rights for me to use them in the show with the option to buy them from her. The record company loved it all, put the artwork on the album cover, and that basically was the start of my career."

"Then your father," he guessed, tipping my chin up. "Don't think for one moment that something like that would change my opinion of you. We all make mistakes. Think of it as a learning experience."

"I did. I don't regret it, though. It led me to an amazing career, but you're right. I went home after I received news about my father. He needed round-the-clock care, but after a few months, he died from complications—a blood clot. After that, I dedicated myself to my work, always on assignment and I was close to getting in the same kind of trouble as I had with Garrett."

She sat up, needing a little space and Edward's eyes narrowed on her. As if he knew they were reaching a breaking point.

"What happened, Bella?"

She closed her eyes and said, "My ex showed up and asked for help."

That statement made Edward sit up partially. When he finally spoke, his voice was nearly a growl. "Tell me you're not fucking married or with him still."

"Fuck no, Edward. I'm not that kind of person." She tucked her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Just let me get this out."

"This…this is the part you're nervous about?" He sat up at the other end of the couch, leaning against the arm. "Just tell me, my imagination is running wild now."

"He worked for a firm that specializes in the kind of missions that the government can't sanction." He groaned and hit his thigh with a fist. "I was about to head to Hong Kong fora photo shoot with a finance mogul who wanted me to photograph him and his family."

"Meaning your ex needed to get close to whoever or whatever the target was," he offered, and cursing when she nodded. "In other words, he used you."

"It would've been more dangerous if they didn't have a good cover and with time being an issue, they had to move in quickly. The firm found out I was heading there, him and two others posed as members of my crew and obtained the information they needed. We left the shoot with no one aware. I didn't know specifics, but they claimed it was only intelligence they were after."

"That's it," he said after a few moments.

"Not exactly," she said, wincing when Edward shot up to his feet.

"Let me guess, your professional connections opened doors and opportunities they could easily use to roam around the world."

"That first job went so smooth, his boss asked me to help with some more. They trained and used me mostly on reconnaissance missions, until that bullshit with James. I was only supposed to go in there, take the pictures, and plant the bugs. That's it."

"Christ, that's why you left to go to the _bathroom._" He had to realize now that she only gave him half-truths before.

"Yes."

He stood in front of her, glaring. "What the fuck?"

"You agreed to listen before going all asshole on me!"

"That was before I realized your ex is a fucking idiot, and after letting you go in order to keep you safe, he still put you in harm's way."

He was pissed at her ex. "Oh," she said, watching him pace like a caged animal.

"What kind of asshole would do that?"

"He didn't want to," she said, rising to her feet. Her hands settled on his hips when he passed again. She hated how he flinched, but after a moment, he came to her willingly. His arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. He was angry, but it didn't seem aimed at her; at least not completely. "The firm didn't give him much of a choice, and once Hong Kong was done, he sent me home. His boss came to see me a few weeks later. He didn't find out about it until I was almost done with my training. He was far from happy and threatened to leave, but in interest of keeping me safe, he stayed."

Edward's whole body radiated tension. His face, however, was neutral. "Then you had your second chance," he said stiffly, holding still but she saw how much he wanted to run. Bella reached for his face and protested when his hands manacled her wrists as if to push her away. He didn't, only grunted as he pulled her closer.

"I didn't want one when I saw him again. I don't know if I ever loved him as a wife should, but as a friend, I did. When I saw him again, not even the old feelings were there, only the memories we had as kids and the anger for him leaving the way he did. He was ashamed of how much he hurt me, and so was I, for letting him. It took time, but we became friends again, but that's it."

"He should've never asked you to help him. He put you in that position at a time when you had just lost your father, when you were vulnerable. Of course you would've latched onto anything that resembled a family."

He understood why she had to do it.

"They were my family. They were very good to me, Edward. For two years, they kept me safe, and they swear they only killed bad guys." She shrugged and looked into his eyes. "If it hadn't been for them and the training, there's no way I would've survived the last few years on the run."

"I get that, and believe me, I'm grateful for it. That doesn't excuse the fact that he put you at risk."

"I don't know where I'd be if he hadn't. I was so lost after my dad died. I was partying too much again, and who knows where I'd be. The discipline, the training, the friends I made, kept me from going down an even darker path, Edward."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I have to like him," he said, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "I'm glad you learned to take care of yourself, but I'd feel better knowing you can actually follow through."

She poked his chest. "Hey, I did all right the two times the safe house was raided after I chose to testify." She escaped, didn't she? She could handle it.

He grabbed her shoulders to push away enough to look her in the eyes again. "But since then, you haven't had to, right?" She shook her head. "And there was the incident in the truck that you had a panic attack when I started to ask too many questions."

"I felt cornered." She knew she was pouting, but she had a feeling she wasn't going to like where he was heading with the discussion. "It had been a while since I felt like that."

"Understandable. I was being an asshole, but since your friend hasn't contacted you yet, maybe we need to take a refresher course."

"Really?"

He nodded and led her to the office where he had the computer and equipment set up to scramble his location.

"I won't let anything happen to you, but why take a chance? We can try tomorrow if the rain lets up long enough to set up an area for some target practice." He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. "Is this guy one of your friends from the firm?"

"No. I didn't want to get them involved because of the mob ties. They could find out about them, and anyone on assignment would have their covers blown."

"So, this guy is really a friend of your family?" She nodded in reply and waited as he pulled up the online ad they were looking for. Sure enough, Alec hadn't replied yet. "Let's agree that by tomorrow night we leave if we haven't had received word from him."

"You'd do that for me?" she asked quietly, her gaze on her lap. His hum caught her off guard, so close to her ear, but the feel of his mouth on her shoulder soothed her worries. His hands skimmed up her sides. "I thought you'd act like an asshole after I told you all this."

"You haven't been through the training I'll be putting you through yet." She laughed but moaned when he cupped her breasts underneath her top. His hands were a little rough from the work he did, but felt amazing on her skin. "I'll be your worst nightmare." The words were meant to taunt her, but their delivery only teased her senses.

"Horrible," she gasped at the bite of his teeth on her neck that drove her insane. "Terrifying"

Nimble fingers pulled and pinched at her nipples, already tight beneath his touch. "I'll have you doing a hundred pushups and calling me sir by the end of the day," he said firmly, his hands stilling her undulating hips, only to thrust up against her. "I want you again. Come on, let's grab some food and then I'm taking you to bed."

"Yes," she whispered, turning enough on his lap to take his bottom lip between her teeth. He tensed, waiting for what she'd do next. Her gaze locked with his. "Yes, _sir_." She felt the pull of his hands on her hips, moving her over his cock in a smooth stroke that had her grasping the desk in front of her.

They were out of the office, adequately fed, and on his bed in record time. He didn't push her away as she expected, the way others before him all had, and she wouldn't have blamed him. Instead, he made love to her all night long.

She loved and hated how much hope it had given her.

* * *

**AN: I know there is a chance people will be upset over the discussion of cannabis and pot. I apologize if it did, it was not my intention, but it is something I am familiar with, my niece is in a lots of ways like Emmett's baby girl. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. I can be found on Twitter under my penname and on Facebook under Ericastwilight Fanfic Group. Thanks**


	9. Snapshots

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Chapter Nine—Snapshots**

* * *

Heat licked up at Edward's boots as his head started to pound. A crushing weight seemed to numb his thigh, but the sudden rush of sound was what slapped reality in his face. His ears rang and clanked, high-pitched and relentless, and an out of place soft melody mixed in with all the noise. Voices—no, screams—invaded and seemed to come from all sides.

Sweat and blood dripped in his eyes and kept him from getting a clear picture of the situation, other than fact that he was hanging on by the bite of the lap belt across his groin and thighs. The Humvee was on its side; fuck, that was not good and he knew it.

Frantic and desperate to make sense of it all, he reached for something to grasp—anything. The familiar feel of a buddy's arm was beneath his unsteady, gloved fingers, and he clung to it. One look at the hand and he recognized the cross tattoo between Jose's thumb and forefinger, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief and ask for a report. When he heard no reply, he tugged, realizing too late that it was the detached limbof what was left of his friend.

A terror-filled sound seemed to reverberate in his head, one that sounded much like his own voice, along with a softer one that still sang. He took one look toward the driver, Jose, a friend since he was five years old, and he had to pull back the churning in his gut.

"Fuck, fuck," he slurred, looking at the others in the back, both dead, and friends from home, as well. He pounded his fist on the roof a few times, quick jabs that brought feeling into his body again. He made a mad grab for all of their tags and slipped them around his neck.

Despite the blood, gore, and gut-wrenching fear, he knew had to keep moving and cut himself loose with a knife. He found something else pinning him in place, metal twisted around his leg. A few shots popped approximately fifty yards ahead of him; too close. He had to get Martinez, Newton, and Tyler out. It was the least he could do for not listening to his instincts. The intelligence they received was wrong and he felt it in his gut minutes before they rode into the area.

Edward's jaw clenched as he tried to extricate his leg, calling out in a whisper-yell to the others in the patrol, but only gibberish and static came through on the radio. Cursing, he finally freed himself, falling against Jose. It was hard to avoid seeing that his friend was missing half of his face.

"Fuck," Edward hissed, but pushed past the emotional and physical pain. He went through their pockets and grabbed a few other essentials, including Tyler's rifle and extra ammo. After a quick look around, he found a way out of the twisted vehicle through the busted out windshield and belly-crawled along one side, assessing the situation. The last thing he wanted was to draw more fire, because he intended to get his friends and the rest of the unit home.

Flames and smoke shot up from two of the five vehicles in the patrol, the others immobilized, much like his. One had at least three of the passengers firing toward the west. The glaring sun helped keep his cover. He asked for positions, and one by one, the others checked in. For some reason, the radio intermittently played a familiar song, causing him to wonder if his head injury was worse than he thought.

Ignoring the seepage of blood under his gear, he crouched and dared a look toward the west. He confirmed the positions of the hostiles and spotted one creeping up on his unit. Using the fire and smoke from the burning vehicles to shield him, he aimed. Before the target had a chance to release a single round, Edward shot him, catching the side of the hostile's neck. His aim remained steady as he dropped another five before something brought him to his knees. The familiar tune he'd heard for the last several minutes seemed to get louder as he fell back, before the world went black.

"_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine." _

It took a moment for Edward to recognize the voice, and instantly he sat up in bed with sweat coating his naked body and the sheet beneath him. His curse was hoarse, his throat sore and dry as if he was still in that desert heat. The erratic beat of his heart pounded in his ears and head, and he had to shift to the side of the bed. He propped his elbows on his knees, attempting to wipe away the horrific memories from his eyes. Something soft, a whisper from his nightmare seemed to follow him into reality.

It took a moment, but he recognized it. "Bella." He'd fallen asleep, in bed, with her. Fuck. His eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. "Bella."

The singing drew his attention to the corner of the room, and sitting in the chair there with her knees pulled up to her chest, was Bella. She was rocking, her singing decreasing in volume. Her eyes were wide open and on him, but they seemed unseeing. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, his hand covering his mouth to keep from calling out to her. It wasn't until she said his name, her gaze finally recognizing him that he scrambled toward her, kneeling in front of her. His hands reached out and her flinch made bile rise.

"Please tell me I didn't hurt you," he begged, his eyes running over every inch of her.

"No," she said with a small sniff. "You started to call out, your voice sounded off, and I knew." Her eyes filled with more tears as others continued to spill. "I-I got out of bed and sat here, hoping you'd snap out of it."

Even as the nightmare started to fade, he remembered something. "Then you started to sing."

She nodded and lunged at him, settling on his lap. Her scent surrounded him, helping to calm him further. "It was awful." She was hurting for him.

Edward couldn't imagine what he said or did in his sleep. He had learned a long time ago not to keep anything on his nightstand, since it had the potential of ending up as a weapon, and Bella could've been a casualty of that if she hadn't made such quick decisions.

Bella was all soft and warm in his arms, safe. She pressed kisses to his throat, her hold almost choking him. "I heard you," he whispered, letting her touch him as she pleased. "How did you know it would work?"

He felt her shake her head. "I didn't know. I only sang in the hopes that you'd hear me, and that it would pull you out of your nightmare." His hands cradled her face as the dim moonlight from a nearby window highlighted her eyes. She was too good for him, despite her bluntness and tendency to push all his buttons. Her fingers slipped around his wrists, holding him captive in ways he never expected, but should've known it was possible. "Are you okay?"

Of course, she'd ask about him, even though he probably scared years off her life. She'd been through so much, and he was only adding to that baggage.

"I should ask you that question."

"I'm okay," she lied, because he could see the truth in her eyes. The fear and pain, and as much as she wanted to run from what she thought she saw in his gaze, she couldn't. "You didn't hurt me, I swear."

The panic and horrible memories used to make him unbearable, angry at the world. It receded to a simmer the moment he'd seen Bella crying, singing and scared. Instead of pushing as he normally would and probably should have, he needed her closer—a first.

"I need a shower. Come on," he said after a few beats of silence. His legs shook as he lifted her up, still dealing with the remnants of the nightmare. Once steady, he carried her to the bathroom and watched as she readied the shower and stripped off his shirt she had on. Without looking at him, she slipped under the cascading water, losing herself for a moment under the heat. It didn't take long for her hair to become a few shades darker and slick down her back.

He should have sent her away, because things for him wouldn't change. It had been five years and he still had debilitating nightmares. Bella looked over her shoulder then, sucking in the corner of her mouth as if to stop herself from saying something. It wasn't often when she did that, and he wondered if it would hurt to hear the thoughts she held back.

"Come here, please," she said, holding out a hand. He had no resistance left in him as he took it and slipped in behind her. Water sluiced over him, washing away some of the remnants of his dark past. His eyes closed as he let the water continue its task. It wasn't long before he felt Bella help, her soapy hands sliding across his battle-scarred body.

He wasn't sure what caused him finally to tell her everything, but the words spilled forth with alarming speed. The nightmare that was only a piece of a memory in reality, played out for her in black and white. He shuddered as she listened, not saying a word. Her touch continued even as she led him into the bedroom a few minutes later.

"It wasn't until I killed most of them, including some kid that couldn't have been more than fourteen that I finally collapsed from my injuries. I got a fucking medal for killing a child." It wasn't the first time, he told her, but it was his only in such way. "The doctors couldn't understand how I'd done it. I had a huge gash in my head and a mangled leg, yet shot six of them before one knocked me out and took me hostage."

He didn't detail his torture, knowing she'd dream about it if he did. "Hours turned into days, but it felt like months, years. The injuries, they stitched up, crudely, enough for me to get better just so they could get the information they thought I'd give up. I wore four different tags on me, and I kept giving them all the names on them when they asked for mine. For some reason, that kept me grounded, but pissed them off more."

"Lie down on your stomach, babe," she whispered after changing the sheets. He did as she asked, almost robotically, and rested his cheek on his hands. Her thighs gripped his hips as she straddled his back, her hands working their magic on his shoulders. "Keep going."

Despite the short interruption, the words continued to flow. "I swore they had me for months, but according to the official reports, it was closer to three weeks. As soon as I heard gunfire, I woke up."

Her hands stilled, and her voice was so damn soft. "What?"

"I wanted to die, Bella." He shook his head. "I didn't really fight them other than refusing to spill information. It wasn't until I heard them coming for me that I decided I couldn't do what I did to my friends' families. I'm an only child, and I couldn't do that to my parents. I would not make them bury their son the way other families had to because I didn't listen to my instincts!"

"Oh, Edward, it was a lose-lose situation, you need to remember that. It was either you disobey an order, risk being reprimanded, or follow orders." She pressed her lips across his shoulders. She continued doing the same to every scar on his back, over bullet and stab wounds. Over the thick markings from the steel-tipped whips they used, her touch radiated down to the bone. He felt her tears on his skin, and somehow, he managed to fall into a peaceful sleep shortly thereafter.

Sunlight peeked through his eyelids hours later and stirred him awake. He kept his eyes closed, listening for any clues on Bella's whereabouts. She was in the room, that he was sure of since he smelled the light fragrance of her lotion. He looked and found her on the other side of the bed, facing away from him. His instinct to put some distance between them failed to rear up again. He didn't bother to ask why, because he knew the reason. One he wasn't ready to voice.

As gently as possible, he curled his body around hers, her warmth and softness was soothing as it was arousing. Her soft half moan and half sigh of his name made his heart pick up speed, but she remained asleep.

_Let her rest, _he reminded himself.

Edward awoke an hour later to find the bed empty. "Bella?" The floor creaked nearby, snapping his attention toward the spot. What he found made him hard instantly and feel self-conscious at the same time. She was dressed in an off the shoulder, long-sleeved sweater and underwear, with a camera in her hands, standing near the foot of the bed on his side. Her hair was messy, but still sexy. "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking some personal pictures of my man." She moved her head from behind the viewfinder and smiled. "Is that okay?" Her gaze moved over his bare chest and down the rest of his body. "You look really damn good in the morning." Another grin graced her face. "All sleep rumpled and sexy." He cocked an eyebrow. "What?" The question sounded innocent and sweet, but he knew it was anything but.

"Come here," he said, holding out his hand. She shook her head and continued to snap pictures of him. "Bella, give me the camera and come back to bed." He had worried about awkwardness or even fear from her after his confessions, but everything continued as normal between them—even seemed easier.

"Not a chance," she murmured, pulling at the sheet that kept the photos PG-rated. She hummed as he sat up to catch the sheet, but failed. "I won't share these pictures. They're for my eyes only."

Why did he like her words so much? The way she said "my man" shouldn't have sounded damn good, but it did.

"Give me the camera and get your ass over here," he ordered, hoping she'd listen as she usually did in bed. She peeked from behind the camera and blew him a kiss. He shifted, and despite the fact that he was fully erect and naked, he slipped out of bed. She backed up and kept clicking away, falling to her knees a few feet before he could capture her. She set the camera behind her after one last click and slid her hands up his thighs. "Oh, no you don't," he said, grabbing her and tossing her on the bed.

Her laughter made him pounce on top of her and remove her top quickly. She looked up at him, whiskey-gold gaze under the brightening sunlight. It had to be closer to noon than morning. The look in her eyes stopped him for a moment. What did she see in his?

"I said you could take pictures of my property, not of me."

Her arms circled around his neck and shoulders, her fingers playing with his hair. "I'll delete them, if you want." She would too, if he asked. He shook his head. "I meant what I said. They're for my eyes only."

"Not sure if it really matters. I think everybody sees my scars." Where that had come from, he wasn't sure, but it was the truth.

Her eyes softened, but lost none of the happiness within them. "You wear them sometimes as a mask, Edward, but only the ones closest to you truly feel them." He knew that, despite the fact that his parents hadn't visibly seen his scars; something he insisted on once he was stateside years earlier.

"And that includes you," he said, not as a question, but as a simple fact.

"Yes," she said cautiously, pressing her lips on his. She repeated the word a few times, until he deepened the kiss. Edward had to work to keep from getting out of control as usual the moment he had Bella naked beneath him. Something inside of him wanted to take his time and savor, so he did. Repeatedly, he brought her to the brink, only to pull back and start all over again. He worked her with his fingers, his tongue, his cock, until her thighs trembled.

"Oh my God," she hissed. Her hands twisted in the sheets, her body arching under the lash of his tongue. Unable to resist any longer, he finally pressed his lips to her mouth and slipped inside her once again. Her arms shook as they wrapped around his shoulders, her forehead pressed against his. Their harsh breaths drove their lips apart, their eyes connecting. He dared her with a look not to turn away as she usually did when they were together. For just a moment, it seemed she'd do it anyway, and he knew he gave her every reason to do it.

"Bella," he whispered, keeping her there with him. As his hips thrust faster, harder, he kept saying her name. It all became too much, after hours of holding back, it made them frantic. Their lips met powerfully, her nails bit into his shoulders, while his fingers dug into her hips.

There was little to no room between them. Her hands suddenly captured his face, their eyes meeting again. She tried hard to maintain it as she let go, causing him to do the same a few strokes after her. The strength in Edward's arms gave way, and though he was too heavy, she held him there. His lips settled on her shoulder, moving slowly to her ear, where he whispered her name. He realized that sex wasn't enough anymore and maybe it never had been.

"What is that?" Bella asked as they worked on something to eat in the kitchen. From his office, an alarm called for their attention.

"I set up a program to alert me if any news pops up about Riley." Edward jogged toward the office with Bella close on his heels. He sat down in the chair and brought up the information as Bella hovered over his shoulder to look.

"What the hell?" she said, her hand on the desk turned white as she swayed.

Edward quickly grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her temple as he went through all the news outlets that reported on Riley. "He's dead." He clicked on several images that caused them to pop up one by one.

During a transfer, a fight broke out between several men and somehow caused the vehicle to swerve into incoming traffic. Though the accident was not the cause of his death, it did allow two unmarked cars to drive up and shoot him, before driving off. Authorities lost the suspects when they split up in traffic.

Edward typed up something else and brought up another screen to look for information on Riley's known associates—the ones he'd sent after Bella several times. Family had reported them missing in the last two days. Twice, he had to ask Bella to calm down, her anxiety going through the roof. He had no idea why she'd panic, considering the reason why she was in hiding was dead.

"What if the mob went after them?" she asked, worried brown eyes looking up at him. "Will they come after me?" The hit could've possibly been done by the mob Riley was tied to, but why would they come after Bella? According to the trial records he hacked into, Bella had stated that Riley hadn't mentioned his "boss" by name.

"Check the ad," she said, biting her nail nervously. He pulled it up and there were several replies to her ad, but it was easy to eliminate the ones that only responded because of the strange message. Two stood out as possible contact from Alec.

"Why is there two?" Edward asked, as he printed them out so Bella could decipher them.

Pale and looking slightly nauseous, Bella replied, "Because one's from Alec and the other is from Jasper."

"Jasper." He didn't have to ask whom that was; he knew from the way her eyes widened and the way her breath quickened. Her ex-husband had sent her a message. "What do they say?"

"This, the five by five means everything is okay. The 'soldier is no longer marching', in the Buffy series, there's a soldier named Riley. He's telling me that Riley is dead. The other part, 'five by five', he's saying I'm safe and not to worry."

"What about Jasper's message?"

"You're five by five and you're welcome," she said softly, turning to look at him. "That means I'm safe and I think he's the one that took care of Riley and his men."

"It doesn't take a genius to understand this part of the message," he said, and read aloud, "Spike misses you, Dru."

Bella scowled as he set her down on the chair as he shredded the messages in a bin nearby, needing the space. He didn't know what to think. If she was safe, did that mean she'd go home? Would she go back to her old life?

"It's not what it sounds like. The last time Spike saw Drusilla in the series, I'd say he didn't like her much. I think."

Edward looked at her and rolled his eyes. "A man that goes out and kills the men that are a threat to his ex-wife? Doesn't sound like he hates you."

"I really think it's his way of saying goodbye. Dru was part of Spike's past, but not his future." Edward wasn't convinced, because what man in his right mind would give her up willingly.

"Let's finish eating before we come up with a response for each of them." He led the way into the kitchen, with silence standing as a wall between them. What could he say to make her understand the turmoil that waged in his mind?

"Are you okay?" she asked as she returned her attention to some vegetables she'd been chopping earlier.

"Five by five." She didn't laugh or respond to his poor attempt to lighten the tension that felt like a third wheel.

They ate their meal at the kitchen island, her on the counter, him in a chair. "Just say something." Edward heard the plea in her voice.

"I'll take you home in the morning." The words were out of his mouth before he could soften them and explain why he said them. Bella said nothing in return, unexpectedly silent. She herself admitted to him that she'd bitch him out if he tried to send her home.

_Fuck. _He didn't know what to make of her silence, but he knew he had to give her space to come up with the decisions she had to make. In his presence, he'd only influence her to stay with him. She needed to make the choice on her own, and he couldn't stand by and wait for her regret it later. Resent him for making her stay.

The moment she stepped out of the kitchen after washing her plate, fork, and glass, Edward thought he likely made the biggest mistake possible.

Bella awoke with the dawn, cold and hungry. Rain dropped on the metal roof over Edward's shed outside, hard but musical in its own way. The stillness of the room didn't surprise her, knowing that Edward had likely slept on the couch or the pullout in his office.

After showering and dressing, she packed up what little she had brought with her. Her laptop was in his office, which she'd retrieve in a few minutes. She needed a moment to pull herself together.

"You're so stupid," she said to herself. She had known that the thing between her and Edward was temporary. She wasn't supposed to fall in love with the brute.

A part of her thought that the only thing that held him back was his physical and mental health. The seizures weren't life threatening, just something he'd have to endure of the rest of his life. The bouts of memory loss he said he experienced didn't seem to effect much, other than constant lists and notes he kept around the house. Hadn't she shown that she could handle the nightmares? She was light enough sleeper, the moment he started tossing and turning, she'd slip out of bed and do what she did the night before. She showed him that his scars didn't bother her, but he was sending her away despite all that.

"Breakfast is done," Edward said from the doorway, his shoulder leaning lightly against the dark wood. She did her best to put a smile on and joined him. He surprised her by pressing his lips to hers briefly. "You ready to head back?"

She had no intention of trying to force him to love her, or staying where she was no longer wanted. _Lie_, she told herself. "Of course, I miss my house."

He nodded, his eyes running over every feature of her face. She was good at lying; the firm she used to work for showed her how. Funny how all those lessons flooded back now and not when she first met Edward. Maybe then, her heart wouldn't be breaking.

_No regrets, _she said to herself. She'd never regret loving him.

"My parents can't wait to see you." She hadn't known he called his parents other than the first day to tell them she was staying with him. "Apparently, there's something of a surprise waiting for us when we get back into town."

"Sweet," she said, and without further ado, she brushed past him, bags in hand. Edward was quick to take them from her and joined her after depositing them in his truck. A certain scent seemed to hang around the kitchen, something she hadn't recognized until he told her about why he smoked.

They ate in silence once again, and though Bella wanted to say something, she simply couldn't find the words. She worried she'd beg him to let her stay. Together, they washed dishes as her iPod played nearby.

A soft ballad started, one that she played often when she was feeling alone. As Edward put the last plate away, he dried his hands on a dishtowel and faced her.

"Dance with me?" He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it.

Didn't he know he was only making it harder for her to let go? Despite the pain she'd undoubtedly feel the days that lay ahead, she slipped her hand into his. His other arm wrapped tightly around her waist, as he held their intertwined hands higher. She tried to put some space between them, but Edward countered her attempt. Instead of asking her to sing, his voice murmured the words against her ear.

Too many things had happened in the last few weeks, and finally, the dam sprung a leak. She hid her tears in his shirt, thankful for the thick flannel he wore. His hand, wonderfully warm, slid down her back to pull her even closer. She felt him hard and thick against her stomach and couldn't keep the moan from slipping through her lips. She shouldn't want him still, and she knew that it would make things harder later, but the truth was that it was too late. He slid his hand down further and cupped her ass, but did nothing more than sway in place to the beat of the music that played.

A thousand and one thoughts seemed to turn over in Edward's mind. Many seemed as ridiculous as the last and every single one of them was an attempt to keep her with him. They were already halfway to her house. Her camera lay between them on the seat; she hadn't touched it once, a stark contrast from when they drove up to his cabin days earlier.

He used to enjoy the silence, but now it seemed too thick to wade through. The words he wanted to say made his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.

"The rain is coming down harder," she said, looking out her window at the grey, ominous sky.

"It's supposed to storm all night." He hated that they were discussing the weather, when they should be talking about what happened next.

"Fitting," she said under her breath, her forehead resting on the cold glass.

"Why do you say that?" She sent him a glare. "Fuck, don't look at me like that."

"Why? Do you want me to come out and say you're an asshole? How about, you're exactly like the other men in my life. You're pushing me away like they did." She threw her hands up and huffed, gloriously angry. He tried not to wince. "You'd think I'd learn to not let myself get attached to emotionally detached men. For once, I want someone to love me enough to fight for me, damn it. And that's clearly not you."

She screamed when he pulled the truck over onto the shoulder, kicking up mud, gravel, and weeds. He didn't give a fuck, because he _had _made a monumental mistake by not saying anything. It was time to correct it and she would listen to him, even he had to turn back and tie her to a bed to do it.

* * *

**AN: One more chapter and an epi. And yes, I had always planned for Edward NOT to be the one to save the day, at least where Riley and his men are concerned. This fic was never meant to go past ten or so chapters. Still deciding what to do with the epi, a glimpse of the near future or a few years later? Who knows, I only do what the characters tell me ;)**


	10. Roadside

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Chapter Ten—Roadside**

* * *

"Did you just threaten to tie to me to a bed?" He hadn't realized he said anything aloud. By the sound of Bella's incredulous voice, Edward realized he was treading a thin line. One he seemed to straddle since they met.

After putting the truck in park and turning it off, he turned to glare at her. "Considering I kept my promise of not surfacing for days, you bet your ass I did."

She sat back against the door and the tears that almost started to fall earlier were gone. Now, she looked pissed, but angry was a hundred times better than crying. He couldn't handle that from her, but what surprised him was the look of smug satisfaction on her lips, as one eyebrow rose in challenge.

"I believe your words were that you'd _throw_ me over your shoulder, and _then_ we wouldn't surface for days," she stated.

Edward knew she loved pushing his buttons, especially when they argued. It was a damn shame she couldn't do it when it really mattered. If she'd had the outburst at the cabin, they would've hashed it out there and saved them some confusion.

It was time to have it out.

Bella watched as Edward grasped the steering wheel tight enough for it to creak under his white-knuckled hold after she teased him. She knew he'd been holding back something since they received the messages from Alec and Jasper. She hadn't a clue as to what that was until he said he'd take her home as they ate.

Apparently, now that she was safe, it was over between them in his eyes. If that was the case, why hadn't he come out and said it? He'd made it clear that he couldn't offer her more than sex since they started this rollercoaster ride between them, so why leave her hanging now? He offered no clarification at all, other than stating he'd take her home. Then after breakfast, he asked her to dance after being quiet and closed off on their last night together. It messed with her head, enough for her to blow up on the ride home. She hated that she couldn't hold back as well as he could.

A round of slightly unhinged and rough laughter emitted from him. "For someone who seems to know what I'm thinking ninety percent of the time, you sure picked the wrong time to stop."

She didn't know what to make of that. "I never made such a claim. I just know how to read you when you're horny or pissed." She matched Edward's scowl and narrowing eyes. "Which happens to be most of the time."

"That's only because it's you." He tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling of his truck, staring and not saying a word. Tired and confused with the whole situation, Bella reached for the door handle with the intention of getting some fresh air. "I wouldn't run if I were you."

Oh, the man knew better to issue that kind of warning when she was upset.

"What are you going to do, huh?" His eyes narrowed in on her hand. She should have backed off, but nice and easy didn't work on Edward. If she wanted answers, she had to push sometimes.

"Exactly what I damn promised you," he stated. What did he mean by that—a few more days of fucking? She didn't know if she should feel insulted or aroused. The way he said it didn't help, either. It meant that things could end in one of two ways; either getting naked or walking away angry at each other.

She couldn't think when his scent of wood, pine, and soap assaulted her senses, so she laughed off his words and opened the door. By the time she hopped off and slammed it closed, he was rounding the hood of his truck. Before he could reach her, she backed away. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go home now."

"Sure didn't seem like it an hour ago," he taunted, pushing right back. After taking another step toward her, she was against the bed of his truck. "I could see it your eyes. How it hurt that I said I'd take you home."

"Don't," she whispered, remembering how she shut down after he said it. She could only imagine what he'd seen in her eyes, even though she tried to keep the emotions within her.

Edward groaned in frustration and started to pace like the caged lion she always thought he reminded her of, his hands tugging on his hair. Everything in her heart wanted to reach out and comfort him. He stopped in front of her, hands extending out to her, but stopping. "Don't what, Bella? Tell you I could see how much I hurt you. Don't you fucking get it?"

"What am I supposed to get, Edward?"

When he said nothing, she pushed past him and walked a few steps away, but before she put some distance between them, he made good on the promise. The brute tossed her over his shoulder so quickly that she had to shake her head to clear away the dizziness. She screamed and pounded his back, as he put the tailgate down and sat her down, stepping between her thighs, securing her against him. Breathless and angry, she kept her hands to herself, afraid to touch him.

The anger on his face was evident in his scowl, but his eyes not only held that emotion, but fear, too. She hadn't seen that since the night he awoke from his nightmare. That fear was gone before she could question him. His gaze, however, remained soft, like when they danced earlier. She couldn't take that look, seeing what he clearly refused to face. In a move that made her want to cry and sigh at the same time, he pressed his forehead to hers, both of them breathing shallow and fast.

"I don't like when you walk away." His voice was whisper. "Only someone that truly cares would recognize the pain I put you through last night."

"I know you care, but that's not enough anymore," she replied. He shook his head, his hands reaching for the back of her neck, his palm sliding into her hair. As gently as possible, he made her look at him.

"I thought it would be best if you had a day or two away from me before you decide on what life you want."

Confused, she sat back to get a good look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Riley and his men are dead," he stated and shrugged. "You can go back and be Marie Isabella Swan, the famous photographer, or you can stay here, or go anywhere else in the world. You didn't need me around to influence your decision. I don't want you resenting me for asking you to stay."

She understood then; maybe he did feel something for her, too. By the belt loop of his jeans, she pulled him closer. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Don't ask me to answer that, Bella." The plea in his voice answered her question in a way.

"I made the choice the day I returned after I testified," she said softly, pursing her lips for a moment. "We faked Marie Isabella's death. There's no going back to that life."

"But if Riley and his men are dead, I don't see why not. I read through the transcripts, you never testified against Liam's organization or any of his associates."

Liam MacKenna and his crew was the mob organization that Riley Biers had ties to, and authorities believed he worked for, and had been after him for decades.

"You're right, I didn't. That's because I lied to the DA, and eventually, on the witness stand, as well. Before Marcus was murdered, he said it was for the best at the time, because they'd want to prosecute Liam, and in the end, Alec agreed, too. The Feds would've railroaded me and forced me to testify against MacKenna. Riley said his name loud and clear during his monologue before he killed James, more than once. Think about it, Riley didn't have the means to get the information on the safe house locations, meaning Liam's connections helped. I never had any intention of returning to that life or start another that would put me in a spotlight again."

Edward shook his head, looking thoroughly confused. "But you can still do whatever you want with your life. Why stay here?"

"I told you. I chose this place because of the reclusive artist I heard about, I checked it out and fell in love with the town and its people. I found a cute, money-pit of a house, and I stayed because I wanted a change of scenery. I've been a city girl for years and I grew tired of it. I could've gone anywhere after testifying, but I chose to return here. Not only for you and your parents, but because it was the one place that finally felt like home." She held his hand to her chest. "Do you know how long it's been since I felt that? Since _before _my father died, Edward. Do you really think I'd let that go that easily."

"I sure didn't give you a reason to come back." He had disappeared for a month before she'd left to testify.

"No, not really." They laughed a little. "I think you were part of the reason, even if I didn't know what would happen between us then," she said, cupping one side of his face, loving the way he leaned into her palm. "Answer my question, Edward." Even though the answer was in his eyes, she needed the words this one time.

His eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around her and settled his forehead on her shoulder. "Yes, I want you to stay."

Bella felt her whole body relax, even her heart. Not an easy feat, considering she was in his arms again.

After a couple of minutes, he broke the silence around them. "Damn, I missed having you this close." She felt the same way, even if it had only been a night. His lips swept along her shoulder, before pressing against the corner of her mouth. "I'm sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I promise you, Bella." He pulled back to meet her eyes. "I was already having second thoughts and had every intention of giving you only a day at most before I came back for you."

"Does that mean you would have groveled?" she asked playfully, batting her lashes.

"I don't grovel," he said firmly, nipping her ear and pressing his lips along her cheek. She laughed and reminded him of that one time in his kitchen when she caught him washing dishes. There was something hot about watching Edward at the sink in nothing but his boxers. "Fuck, don't remind me of that. I'm trying to be _more_ and I can't do that if I'm thinking of you on your knees with my—" The rest of what he had to say was lost in a hiss the moment she bit his bottom lip. He deepened the kiss before taking his next breath, his hands lost in the softness of her hair.

"Be more what?" she asked minutes later. Her arms draped over his shoulders, his mouth busy exploring her neck.

"Romantic."

"You really don't need that much work on that, you know." She pulled back to stop him from going further, despite how much she wanted him to.

Edward rolled his eyes; a first. "I'm hardly romantic."

She shrugged. "Not in the typical hearts and flowers kind of way. You're making me a new piece, thanks again for that." She'd seen the new art project when he showed her his workshop, and asked about it. He didn't say anything but ducked his head a little more. "But you bought three of my pieces hours after meeting me." Edward's eyes widened a bit as he looked up at her. "You think I didn't ask when you bought them? You literally left the hospital after the accident and called Gianna to buy them. Admit it, you liked me even then."

"Not until you admit you did, too."

She sighed, not even bothering to lie. "It was lust at first sight." Edward chuckled against her shoulder, pulling her closer, so that she'd feel how much he wanted her. "You don't fight fair. That was barely a fight."

"We could start over." His hands slowly swept up her sides, his thumbs under her breasts.

"It wouldn't help, since I need to learn to hold a grudge," she said, frowning. "I should be mad at you for trying to send me away."

"As I should be angry at you for giving up so easily," he said, pressing his thumb to her bottom lip.

"I did do that, didn't I?" He nodded. "I think I grew accustomed to people pushing me away, that I let it happen without a fight. You're right, though. You shouldn't be the only one to fight for this. If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure I would've seduced you when we got back to my place."

"I would've succumbed with one look," he said. They kissed again, losing themselves to it. A touch breathless, Edward broke away. "I think last night, when I realized I hurt you, I figured out you'd never leave because of my health and mental issues. You'd only leave if I asked you to." He brushed his lips over hers. "I don't think I will, though."

She hummed happily. "See, you can be romantic." Her hands lifted from his shoulders, settling in his hair. Edward let her touch his scars a few days prior, but he showed signs of distress whenever she was too close to the ones on his head. It would take time. She didn't think that vanity kept them hidden. As expected, he stilled slightly, pulling back to watch her face.

"They really don't matter to you, do they?" The fear returned to his eyes.

"Of course they do, Edward," she whispered, eliciting a small shiver to move through him. Lightly tracing the scar with the tips of her fingers, tears formed in her eyes. "Just not in the way you think. They're a part of you, and are a reminder of what you've been through, but they also tell me that you're here and alive. You survived, even if you sometimes wish you hadn't." She held him tighter. "You've been through so much and I know the road ahead isn't going to be all pleasant, but I'm here for the long haul, okay?"

"Fuck, to think I would've just dropped you off and drove away, even if it was only for a night. I'm an idiot." He fully wrapped his arms around her. "I probably would've never made it out of the driveway." She hummed and held him close, and after a few more blissful moments in his arms, she snuck her hand between them. "Fuck, I feel like a ticking time bomb right now, babe. Keep doing that and I'll fuck you right here, right now, in broad daylight."

She pulled back to allow him to see her face. "Do you see me complaining?" He groaned and swept her into a claiming kiss that drove her hips to undulate against him. Their fingers reached for barriers that kept the other from touching skin freely. His shirt opened for her touch and the hem of her dress lifted to around her waist, his hand slipped between her thighs. "Fuck, Edward."

He groaned and pressed his mouth to hers again, thrusting his tongue inside her in the same rhythm as his fingers. She scrambled to reach for his jeans, wanting to feel his cock in her palm and in her mouth, if he let her.

A loud wail of a siren came from behind and startled them to cover up, their eyes on Emmett in his police cruiser as he drove up. The car jeep came to a stop shortly before reaching them. "I can overlook a few things, Edward, but this kind of roadside service is not one of them."

"Asshole," Edward hissed as he flipped him off over his shoulder, righting Bella's dress around her knees and doing his best to keep her from view. She giggled softly, stroking him once more over his jeans. He dropped his mouth to her ear. "Christ, you're going to pay for that."

The cruiser pulled up beside the tail of Edward's truck, Emmett chuckled. "I'd say get a room, but I was asked to escort you to Bella's house." Emmett's dimples came into play, meaning he wouldn't leave them alone until he completed his mission. The ache between her legs would have to wait until they could be alone once they reached the house.

Edward helped her off the truck and she asked, "Why would we need an escort?" Edward walked behind her, holding her close enough to hide the bulge in his jeans. She'd turn right around and take advantage of his state if they didn't have an audience.

"Esme asked me to join you."

_That's cryptic_, Bella thought, watching as Emmett drove a few yards away, giving them a little privacy.

Edward seemed confused as he helped her climb into the truck, once again ensuring her dress kept her covered. "Why would he need to escort us?"

Bella shook her head. "Maybe it has to do with the surprise your mother mentioned."

"I hate surprises."

"Aw," she said. "But I was a surprise."

"You're right, and I definitely don't hate you." She smiled as he closed the door and kissed her through the window. "Let's go before we get worked up again." She laughed, when it obvious he had to make an adjustment.

They drove behind Emmett in silence, both preoccupied with what awaited them at her house. Bella also wondered what it all meant for their relationship, too. After spending almost a week with Edward, she didn't think she could stand a night without him, despite the fact that he didn't always stay in bed with her. It would have to wait until they had a moment alone again, determined not to make more needless mistakes. Miscommunication would only stop if they were honest with each other.

Emmett was out of his cruiser before Edward managed to pull in behind a familiar truck. Bella's eyes widened and she scrambled to get out. She didn't know what to expect, but the person nervously waiting on the porch was not even in her realm of possibilities.

"Give him a chance to explain," Emmett stated, walking backward and putting himself between Edward and their visitor. That was not a good idea.

"What are you doing there?" Edward asked, ignoring Emmett. His words and the glare were clear indication of how upset he was at the moment. Bella was curious, too, but she didn't look as murderous as Edward did as he made his way to the man on the porch. She wasn't sure if he was that angry because of what Jacob had done or because he cock-blocked them—probably both.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't beat you until you're an inch from death," Edward said, his voice low and menacing. She had never heard him talk in such a way, even when he threatened her after Carlisle's accident. It sent a shiver of fear down her spine.

Jacob winced and held up his hands in a defensive move, backing away and almost tripping on a loose board on her porch. "I can explain everything, I swear." He looked from Edward to Bella, surprise drawing his brows high. "Um, okay, I realized a week into the project that the money was missing, which matches up when my ex-girlfriend, Vanessa, left me."

"She took the money," Bella guessed, running a hand through her hair. "If that was the case, you could've talked to me instead of taking off like a damn thief."

"I know I should've, but I wasn't thinking rationally at the time. All I could think was that I had to get it back. She has a gambling addiction and she'd already been gone a couple of days."

"And what did you think you could do? Come back now and make amends?" Edward asked, taking another step toward Jacob. Emmett once again stood between Edward and his quarry, despite the fact that some of his anger had diminished. It was subtle, but she saw how the tick in his jack had slackened. "Where's the damn money?"

"I have most of it, and I'll work for free to cover the rest." Jacob turned his attention to Bella. "I'm truly sorry that this happened, after I caught up with Vanessa, I managed to take the five thousand she hadn't lost and doubled it before coming back. I'll find a way to cover any other materials, if needed."

"You will not get another dime from me," Bella said, passing Edward to reach Jacob. "A lot of work has been done since you've been gone." Jacob's dark eyebrows nearly reached his hairline as his eyes bounced between her and Edward. "He felt obligated to take over since you were his former employee."

"Bella, I can finish the work by myself," Edward said, still glaring at Jacob.

Hoping to ease some of his anger, Bella put her hand on his arm. He relaxed a little more under her touch. "Between the two of you, you can get the rest done much faster."

Edward looked at her, and after a few seconds, nodded. He pointed a finger to Jacob, whom swallowed hard. "I am in charge and your labor is free. You will work from sun up to sun down until all the work is done, you hear me?"

Jacob nodded and looked once more to Bella. "I can do that, and I'm sorry. Emmett is working to charge Vanessa and have her arrested for stealing your money. I have a check—"

"Cash only," Bella cut in, shaking her head. "I can't trust that she won't find a way to stop a check. Or can I?"

Jacob shrugged. "She somehow convinced someone at the bank to hand over the money in my account."

Emmett spoke up again, staring at Edward to ensure he remained in a relative safe distance from Jacob. "I'm looking into the teller at the bank, since Vanessa's name is not on the account, she shouldn't have been able to withdraw anything."

"Fine, you can all leave now," Edward growled and advanced toward the front door. Emmett and Jacob protested, but one look from him and they said their goodbyes. Jacob promised he'd arrive the next day around seven.

Once they were alone, Bella glared at Edward, placing her hands on her hips. "A bit high handed out there, Edward. This is my place and they were my guests. Who gave you the right to send them away?"

"Fuck, I hadn't meant to take over like that, but I'm pissed and barely kept from exploding. Jacob wasn't helping with how he looked at you and then at me, as if he couldn't believe we'd be together. It was pissing me off."

"Ah, you're jealous." Bella hadn't given any indication she was interested in Jacob. She learned her lesson that it's unwise to mix business with pleasure.

"I don't get jealous," he hissed and prowled toward her. "But now that you're allowing him to finish the job he started, I have to put up with his sorry ass."

"Jealous," she repeated, grabbing his hand to pull him close. He let her. "Besides he probably couldn't believe it because I'm a chatterbox and you're the silent type."

His hands settled on her hips, his fingers curling halfway over her ass. "You do talk too much."

She slapped his chest, only partially annoyed. It was true, anyway; once she started in on a subject, she'd talk for hours. It only happened with those she was comfortable with, which was why Jacob's sudden disappearance, along with her money, had been such a surprise.

"You love when I'm mouthy," she said, about to continue, until he kissed her until she was panting. His lips were soft against her skin, ghosting along her neck.

"I do love when you have your mouth on me," he said softly, pushing her against the front door. She imagined him doing this to her while he worked for her that first month. His arousal was thick and hot between them, as the embers that flickered to life after their fight ignited again. "But I also love when you say my name." His teeth scraped gently where her shoulder met with her neck, his tongue soothing the bite.

"Edward," she moaned, melting further into his arms. She was positive he was holding her upright. Her knees shook, barely able to hold any weight as desire heated her blood.

"Love the way your mouth forms the words to your favorite song as you sing." His hand slipped between her thighs, encountering her underwear already wet from her mounting lust. Some of his words lost coherency, or maybe that was her thoughts. "Love when you whisper my name in your sleep, as if you're dreaming of me."

"I do," she groaned, her thighs tightening around his hand for a moment. For that single second as his fingers first thrust inside her, she held on as hard as she could. She relaxed and moved her hips at the pace he set, needing more of him.

"Fuck," he said deeply, losing himself in another kiss. "Let's christen the kitchen."

She leaned back to look into his eyes, pulling herself up by placing her arms around his shoulders. "I imagined us right here, we might as well start here." He hissed as she licked his bottom lip, grabbing a hold of her ass with both hands. "I know we have a lot to talk about, but right now…"

Edward heartily agreed with another kiss, and within a few minutes, he had her naked between him and the door. Any words he had to say were lost as he looked at her from the top of her head to her toes. He captured the image in his mind that he would forever think of whenever he stepped through her door. Her thighs rubbing together, hands tight in fists, her long hair draped partially over her shoulder and back. Her skin not quite tanned, appeared flushed with desire, and contrasted against the dark stain of the wood behind her. She almost looked like a dream. One he wouldn't want to wake from, ever.

Nimble fingers worked the buttons of his jeans, allowing them to pool at his feet. She stroked him in her soft as silk hands, a thumb circling the tip until he couldn't take anymore. If she continued, he'd come with her touch alone. Too worked up for gentle and slow, he warned her as he had beside the road.

Her arms circled around neck, her body tight against his, fingers weaving through his hair, reminding him of everything she'd given him already, and yet it wasn't enough. "I'm yours." How she knew exactly what he needed to hear, he would never really understand. "I'm yours." As she cried out his name the moment he thrust inside her, he knew her words to be true.

She was his, as much as he was hers.

Within a few minutes, his pace was relentless, his bad leg protested, forcing him to turn and slide down the door to the floor. She groaned, her legs wrapping around his hips instinctively. He held her ass in his hands, his grip tight as he helped move her over him. She rocked at every other turn, her eyes rolling closed as he managed to thrust up at her down stroke. His lips closed over a sensitive nipple, her voice bouncing off the walls, driving him insane. Her nails bit in his shoulder as she pulled his chin up to suck his tongue into her awaiting mouth.

"Fuck," he hissed against her lips. Curses continued to slip from his mouth, punctuating each roll of her hips. His fingertips undoubtedly would leave imprints, and the thought of that thrilled him beyond reason. She pulled away to breathe in deeply, throwing her head back. The tickle of her hair against his hand on her back made him want to see more of her. He pulled up his knees slightly, sliding his ass father away from the door. She seemed to know exactly what he wanted and rested her lower back against his thighs. All spread out before him, her flushed skin and her hands on her breasts, she was a damn wet dream come true. He swept his thumb between her thighs, working his hips along with hers in a fast rhythm. "Come on, Bella. Give it to me." One of her hands joined his, making him stroke harder.

Suddenly, she sat up, her eyes half-hooded as her body tightened all around him. She called out his name, riding him hard through her orgasm. His arm wrapped around her tightly, his free hand holding her as he came with her name on his lips, his mouth on her shoulder. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt hers beat against his chest.

Edward hadn't even bothered to catch his breath, as he whispered to her, "I'm yours."

* * *

**AN: Almost done, only a long epi left to go. What a ride ;)**


	11. Armor

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Chapter Eleven—Armor**

* * *

"Make up sex is awesome," Bella said, still panting from the workout Edward had given her within step of her front door. His husky, post-orgasm laughter was rich—a sound she loved. Calloused fingers danced up her spine, eliciting another curl of desire to move through her. She hoped it would always be like that between them.

"There's plenty more to come but you have to give me twenty minutes before I can deliver again." His hand that made its way to her ass, lifted, and gave her a light smack. It was just enough to test how she'd react.

Bella giggled and hummed, nuzzling her nose and mouth against his neck. Her reaction had the desired effect and made him groan aloud. If it hadn't been for the hard floor beneath them, she'd remain snuggled up in his arms.

The crunch of gravel outside caught their attention. Edward groaned, "My mother has perfect timing."

Bella couldn't help another peal of laughter as she rose onto her unsteady feet. "How do you know it's her?"

"I know what her car sounds like. Besides, she said they'd stop to see us and bring food." That was a good thing, since she didn't have much left, since they'd taken it to the cabin the week before.

"She's got impeccable timing as always, come on," she said, offering her hand. For a second, Edward looked at her outstretched fingers as if they contained the plague. It was gone quickly, replaced with his usual mask of indifference. She knew he hated to show an ounce of weakness, but he had a bad leg that cramped up on him. It hadn't been her first thought when she offered. She simply wanted to help him up, as he would've done the same if their positions were in reverse.

His eyes slid up her arm to her face, as if he were searching for any signs of what she was thinking. With one last lingering gaze, he slipped his hand in hers and used the other on the door to rise to his feet. He managed to keep from groaning aloud, but she caught the way his jaw tightened.

"Hello, darlings, we're here," Esme called from the porch, knocking and giggling shortly after. "Carlisle, I think we may have come at a bad time." The doorbell rang a couple of times.

"It serves them right since we'd be in bed right now if you hadn't insisted on coming to see them."

Bella tried not to laugh, considering Edward was choking on whatever he planned to say. He obviously was painfully aware of the implications of what his father had said. "I'll go clean up," he whispered to Bella, scooping up his clothes and pressing a hard kiss to her lips.

"Chicken," she hissed at him, as she quickly started to slip on her clothes.

"I'll be right out, besides I'm sure you can handle my parents." He seemed oddly proud of that fact and winked. _Damn him and his ability to render me speechless_, Bella thought. She shooed him away and did her best to finger comb her hair, much in the same way she'd done the week before. Had it only been that long since Edward tasted her in her kitchen? It felt much longer and likely because so much had happened since that morning.

She took a fortifying breath and opened the door. "Hi," she said, unable to do anything about how flushed her skin appeared. She was usually pale but it was still warm, so she hoped Edward's parents would believe she was slightly sunburned.

On the spot, she tried to come up with an excuse to buy time for Edward. "Your son is getting dressed, he'll be right out." Her eyes widened and she slapped her hand, much too late, over her mouth. "I mean…he uh," she tried, but Esme only smiled and patted her shoulder. She gestured for them to come inside, choosing instead to keep her mouth shut.

"We get the idea, dear," Esme said, smiling.

Carlisle followed his wife, his blue eyes bright. "Of course I understand. Clearly, my son spilled something on his shirt and had to change into another." Carlisle had said it so seriously, that Bella believed she managed to fool him, until he winked.

_Like father like son; damn that Cullen charm._

"Make yourselves at home, I'm going to uh, freshen up." Bella led them into the kitchen once she saw they had a few grocery bags each. "What are you doing here? I don't mind, of course. Edward said something about food."

"We knew you wouldn't have any groceries, so I'll start on some lunch. Don't take too long," Esme said, cocking an eyebrow meant to tease her. "It's been a while since I cooked a meal for my son. Plus, I have everything for my special lemonade."

"Well, that sounds good to me." Bella hoped that Edward could handle a tipsy version of her. If he thought she had a bad filter sober, he had no idea of what was in store for him. She sang as she made her way to her bedroom, and before she could reach it, Edward cornered her in the hallway outside her bedroom.

"Hmm, we've been here before," she said, looking up into his dark green eyes.

"Don't even think about it."

She squirmed a little under his intense gaze. "Too late, but I respect your parents too much to even consider going down on you again while they're downstairs."

"You didn't have a problem with it last time," he said, though from the look in his eyes and the lift one corner of his lips, he was joking. "That's not why I stopped you." She shifted uncomfortably, her thighs rubbing together. "What's the matter?"

"I need to change," she said. "My underwear is riding up and let's just say—" His hand covered her mouth, his head shaking.

"Don't even say it. Jesus. I just had you and I'm ready for another round." Her eyes widened and her body melted. "Not going to happen. At least, not yet." He looked unsure about his words, but shook his head again. "We need to talk, so we'll visit with my parents, but I have some things I need to say."

Slowly, his hand moved from her mouth to cup her cheek, then to curl around the back of her head. "We do need to talk," she repeated, but had no idea what he expected from her. They seemed to want more from each other, but there was things she needed to remind him of before they could move forward. Like the fact that she may never be able to have a child.

_Slow down, you barely got him to admit he wanted more. _

His gaze roamed over her face, settling on her eyes. He dipped down to kiss her lips with such gentleness that she feared for a tiny moment it would be their last. The feeling was gone just as quickly. He continued meeting her mouth almost leisurely, murmuring something she couldn't quite catch. She realized he wasn't going anywhere; somehow, she knew that as a fact. Breathless, she pushed him back, watching him wipe his bottom lip with his thumb.

"We have plenty of time." After that, he told her he'd be downstairs, and for her to hurry.

She practically floated into her bedroom and cleaned up in record time. A white summer dress and a high ponytail completed the look as she skipped downstairs to find Edward pacing in her living room. She'd seen the look before, one of a cornered animal, one that was ready to flee. It was not a good thing.

"You're not leaving," she said, her heart racing.

Edward's gaze swung toward her, running down her body once before meeting her eyes. "I'm not." His hands lifted to tug at his hair. "It's just something came up and I don't know how to handle it."

She approached him with caution, and the moment she stepped into his space, his arms were around her. His nose nuzzled her hair and his breath exhaled sharply. "How about we try to handle it together?"

His arms only tightened around her, and for a few minutes, he held her. "My parents received a letter from one of the families."

"One of the families?" she asked, but he pulled away and winced, retreating and pacing again.

Edward's father walked into the room, having overhead from the kitchen. "There's going to be a memorial for the fifth anniversary of the soldiers they lost the day of the attack, Edward's friends." Carlisle's palm cupped her elbow and gently prodded her to allow him to take over. "Let me talk to him for a bit."

She nodded and headed into the kitchen, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

"You look about as scared as I am," Esme said, chopping vegetables on the counter. "We thought long and hard if we should tell him about it, but we figured it wasn't a good idea to keep him from it, either. We plan on attending and he'd want to know where we were heading. We knew we had to tell him the truth."

"It explains the look in his eyes," she said, circling the kitchen island in search of another cutting board and knife. She settled beside Esme and started on some tomatoes. "He looks like he's ready to run, but something is stopping him."

"You are," Esme said, though her voice was gentle, Bella heard the sadness behind it.

She had no idea what to say to that. "Esme, I'm not…"

"It's all right, I understand. For quite a while, I knew my husband and I were the only reasons he chose to fight for his life." She switched from the carrots to fresh chicken breasts. "He may have fought to live while he was held prisoner, but he's been far from _living _since he returned."

"It's not your fault."

"I know. It's been wonderful to see him give a shit again." Again, Bella was speechless. Other than when Esme had a little too much to drink, she never cursed.

For several minutes, they worked together as Edward and his father continued to talk in the living room. The soft murmurs drifting into the kitchen kept Bella from seeking Edward out, but not from worrying. She knew he had to be hurting or confused, maybe a little of both. Though he told her of the attack and his capture, she knew he edited out the worst of it for her. Little did he know that she had traveled the world and taken photos of civilians in war-torn countries and of people on both sides of some the most horrific incidents, many war and gang related.

"Does he know you're in love with him?"

Surprised by Esme's question, she sliced through her finger. "Fuck!" Bella hissed, working to stop from screaming. She didn't want to disturb Edward and his father, and clamped her other hand over her mouth.

It was too late. She heard his pounding footsteps as Edward ran into the kitchen and took one look at the situation. In seconds, he had his arms wrapped around her from behind, carefully cradling her hand in his under a gentle flow of water at the sink.

"You okay?" he asked, inspecting her finger and wincing. "That's pretty deep. Dad, does she need stitches?" Carlisle snapped into doctor mode. While Edward continued to hold her, Carlisle indicated she did need a few stitches. "Let's get you to the hospital."

Bella froze for a multitude of reasons, mostly because she couldn't speak freely in front of his parents. "Can you give us a minute?" she asked, looking at his parents. The second they stepped out of the kitchen, Edward demanded why she didn't want to go.

"I haven't been to a doctor since I went on the run," she said, not bothering to disclose she hadn't been much before, either. "My contacts claim my papers would pass the harshest of scrutiny, but I've never tested it before. What if we go and someone in the organization finds out I'm still alive? I don't think I want to risk it."

"You haven't been to a doctor in years?" Edward asked, and she shook her head in response. "How do you get birth control?"

"Free clinic, they aren't as thorough as conventional doctor's offices sometimes, Though, I've had to leave when I had my doubts."

"Bella," he said, but stopped with his lips thinning. "My father can stitch it here, but we'll talk about this later."

"Put it on the list," she said, trying to get him to smile. He gave her a half-assed one. "I'm sorry I'm so much trouble."

"Still worth it," he said, taking her hand and calling out for his parents. "She doesn't want to go the hospital and it's still bleeding. Can you stitch her up here?" Carlisle nodded and said he'd grab his bag from the car, Esme joining him.

"Are you always this clumsy in the kitchen?" Edward asked, checking her finger again.

"Um, your mother surprised the fuck out of me."

Confusion furrowed his brow. "How?"

She wasn't ready to tell him. Not when she had no idea how he'd take it. "TMI kind of stuff. Trust me, you don't want to know."

Edward's eyes widened, likely thinking it had to do with his parents' bedroom activities, and lifted to the door his mother had exited. "No, I don't."

"Are you okay?" she asked him. The caged lion she'd seen earlier scared her in many ways, and one of the reasons she had to keep from telling him she loved him. With everything going on, what if it sent him running? She couldn't risk that, and had to hope she could keep her mouth shut for a while longer. She hoped that Esme would not divulge the information—she'd have to keep on an eye on her.

.

.

.

After a tour of the newly remodeled rooms of Bella's house, having not seen it since construction started, they sat down to eat. The late lunch was fun, and though Edward enjoyed seeing Bella getting along with his parents well, there was an underlying need to talk to her, alone. Something she had said worried him—not seeing a doctor in years.

Despite his abhorrence to hospitals and doctors, other than his father, he did get a physical every year, and a CT every six months. He'd even been to several therapy sessions. Something could have been wrong and she would have no clue. She needed to see a physician as soon as possible. He could do a check on her records as Isabella to ensure that it wouldn't lead someone to her location. If she managed to stay on the run for as long as she had, her papers had to be good.

For hours, his parents remained, helping Bella come up with the color scheme and tile for the master suite. It was something she had held off for the last week while at his cabin. If she wanted her house done before fall, Edward had to order the materials as soon as possible. His parents visit kept him from being alone with Bella, but he settled for her soft touches at every opportunity. Eventually, they stayed for dinner and eventually a few too many drinks for everyone but him.

After dinner, they all sat around Bella's kitchen island. His father had a bright smile on his face, his eyes glazed from drinking. It was clear his parents would need to stay in the spare bedroom downstairs. They couldn't drive in their condition, and the same went for Bella. Since he avoided driving at night as much as possible, he'd have to stay, too, so he made the suggestion.

"I think that's a great idea," Carlisle said with a hiccup. "I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in, darling." He eyed his mother in a way that made Edward cringe and look away. He was used to the affection they had for each other, but he did not want to know when his father was feeling handsy.

His father leaned toward him and whispered, "Bella's a keeper."

"I know, Dad," Edward said, gently slapping a hand along his back. "I'm well aware of it."

"Good. As much as I love you, you can be a bit of an ass at times, son." Before he could reach for another glass of lemonade, Edward pushed it away.

"I'm cutting you off." His father uncharacteristically pouted. Edward turned to his mother to tell her to do the same, but instead, he watched his Bella interact with her. Bella waved her hands around as she described a shot she had lined up of a sunset on his property. She dug through her bag he had retrieved from the truck, pulled out a cell phone, and showed his mother something on it.

"Oh my." His mother looked at him, and he noticed something in her eyes soften. "You look very handsome and here I thought the beard scared away most people."

"Not me," Bella said, somewhat wistfully. He ignored the flush of his ears and asked for her phone. In the photo, he sat on the abandoned train bridge on part of his property. The battered train tracks were a backdrop against the sun, his legs dangling from under the railing, his arms resting on one as he smoked. He'd been aware of the fact that Bella had taken pictures of him, but hadn't remembered this one in particular. She was on his mind, that much he knew, but the slight lift of one corner of his mouth and the brightness in his eyes surprised him.

He looked content, maybe even happy.

His mother must have seen the same in the picture, too, and it was the reason why her eyes had softened. She always worried he would be alone, with Bella around, maybe she wouldn't anymore. Something thumped on the counter, startling all of them. His father's cheek lay on the granite countertop, as he softly snored and started to drool.

"Oh Carlisle, you're such a lightweight," his mother said, rolling her eyes. "Any chance you can help me get him into bed, son? I'll be right behind you."

He nodded and handed Bella's phone to her, kissing her forehead before she could say a word. While he stared at the photo she'd taken, she had remained quiet and waited for whatever he had to say, or not say. It would have to wait until they had privacy. "Come on, Dad, there's a bed with your name on it."

His father smiled up at him, a lazy tilt to it. "Is your mother in it?"

"Oh God, please don't talk," Edward groaned and helped his father to his feet. "I do not need to know what you two do behind closed doors."

"Probably the same things we do," Bella said, scrunching up her nose and looking at him with only one glazed-eye open. "I think I had one too many glasses of lemonade."

"I'd stop if I were you," he said, his gaze meeting hers. She seemed to understand that they needed to talk and nodded. He returned his attention to his father, and they slowly shuffled down the hall. According to the clock on the wall nearby, it was earlier than he expected.

Once inside the room, his father looked Edward in the eye. "You know that woman in there loves you."

"I know Mom loves me, Dad." How could he not know? His mother told him every day, and even when he was away up on his mountain, she always left a message if she couldn't reach him.

"That she does, son, but I wasn't talking about your mother." For someone that had too much to drink, his father was rather talkative. "Do you see how she moves around you?" He gave his father a look, causing him to laugh. "Of course you're aware, but I mean more like she can't help but be near you."

Edward understood that, because he felt the same way. Did that mean love, though? It was too soon. "I know she cares about me."

"Stubborn as always," his father said, groaning. "You get that from your mother." His glazy eyes met Edward's, a small smile on his face. "Bella saved me that night. You need to let her save you, too." With that said, his father fell face first onto the bed and started to snore.

Edward returned to the kitchen to find Bella in near tears and his mother holding her. "What's going on here?" What happened since he left to help his father?

Bella pulled away from his mother, wiping furiously at her eyes. "Nothing really, talking girl stuff."

"I didn't mean to upset her," his mother said. She straightened up and held up her chin in a way that said she wouldn't divulge any information. If it was girl stuff, he probably didn't want to know, but he hated something upsetting Bella enough to tears.

"Before you head to bed, Bella hasn't found a general physician. Do you think Dad can recommend someone for her?" He couldn't help but worry, he wanted to make sure Bella was healthy.

"Edward, you're doing the bossy thing again." Bella scowled up at him, but he glared at her, making her roll her eyes. "But you're right. I haven't gone in years." If that statement raised any concern or suspicion in his mother, she didn't show it.

"I'll ask him in the morning. Goodnight."

"What a day." Bella squeezed his middle once his mother was gone, pressed a kiss to his chest and moved away to unload the dishwasher. They worked together; the silence between them was a welcome one. He had a feeling she knew he wanted to talk and they needed to gather their thoughts before they did.

Edward locked up while Bella showered before bed. He was quick to find a part of boxer briefs and join her, but she was already drying up. Through the steam floating around the room, she watched him undress and enter the shower. Within moments, she joined him, her arms wrapping around his waist from behind, keeping some space between her chest and his back. He worked to relax under her touch.

"We're still okay, right?" she asked. Her voice was soft but worried. She kissed his shoulder blade and across one of his scars. He finally relaxed in her arms and nodded, pulling one of her hands to his mouth and sucking on a finger. She moaned and shifted around to face him, allowing the water to flow over her already wet hair.

Edward looked between their bodies at her chest, staring. She slapped his arm and they laughed—something they both seemed to need. It had been a long day. He squeezed her hard against him, his hands wandering down to her ass to lift her up. He knew his silence was driving her crazy, but he pressed his lips to hers, hoping to convey his thoughts.

She moaned into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and neck. "Don't distract me with your mouth and body," she whispered, squirming in his hold. "I asked you a question." He seemed okay, but the look in his eyes earlier in the day, after his parents told him about the memorial, had scared her. He set her down, but kept her body close to his.

"We're okay. I know you're worried about this thing coming up and so am I. I need to take some time to think about going to the memorial." His face was stern and Bella knew that it meant to drop the subject for now. "I'll also do some checking into your current alias to make sure it doesn't give you away as Marie Swan. One small inkling that the organization has found you if you do see a doctor, we're gone. We'll always have to be prepared."

Already his mind strategized places in her house and his cabin to hide weapons and cash. If they had to run while bullets were flying, he wanted to be prepared.

"I have a cache of money set aside in a few hiding places here along with ID's and passports. We can leave a couple at your place." As she spoke, her soft hands washed his body, making it hard to concentrate. "I have access to an account in Switzerland that doesn't trace back to Marie or anyone in my past life."

"I'll have to create a few identities of my own just in case."

"I don't want to give up this house." Bella winced, awaiting his reaction. He said nothing, though he wanted to, it seemed. "This was the first thing I bought as Isabella Hunter. I love it, and it feels like a home, even with all the renovation and what a pain in the ass it's been."

Edward had a few ideas, but he had to run them past her first. The water started to get cold, so they dried each other up, and he led her to her bedroom. She dropped her towel and climbed onto the bed without an ounce of shame, as she had her ass in the air, before disappearing under the covers.

"We're supposed to be serious here, and you've got me thinking like a caveman." He shook his head and climbed inside with her, foregoing the boxers.

"Sex with you is serious. It has been from the beginning, even though I tried to deny it." She snuggled up to him, keeping her hands from the scars on his back. It didn't bother him as much as the first time; as long as he knew that she was going to touch him, he was better.

"Same here," he agreed and kissed her. "I have a suggestion about living arrangements." Bella's body stilled, her back going ramrod straight. "Calm down, you need to trust me, remember?"

"I'm trying," she murmured, her body relaxing by minute degrees. "A lot has happened in the last week that I never expected and I think it made me jumpy." She looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "What are you suggestions?"

"I think I'm going back to work, if Jacob agrees, that is. He can drive the truck, and we can work together."

"What happens if you're on a roof when you have a seizure?" It was obvious the thought frightened her by the way her fingers tightened around his bicep.

"I don't do any roofing. I usually sub it out." She blew out a deep breath and motioned for him to continue. "I was thinking Monday through Thursday we can stay here and the weekend can be spent at the cabin." He couldn't look her in the eyes, knowing he was laying himself on the chopping block. Already, he was aware that he wouldn't want to spend a night without her nearby. Though it scared him, the idea of her not being with him was more frightening. "That's if you'll have me."

"We'll have to set up a work space for me up there, possibly a dark roo—" She was agreeing? Before she could finish, his mouth covered hers.

"Done." His lips moved across her brow, cheek, and jaw, until he teased the thudding pulse on her neck with his tongue. "Name it, and we'll work it out."

"In that case," she said, wrapping her leg around his hip until she sat upright over his stomach. "I think I should thank you for everything." Her mouth trailed along his sternum, working its way down his torso. He worked his hips higher, needing everything she was willing to give. They had a lot to discuss still, but he felt better knowing she'd always be with him.

.

.

.

_Three weeks later_

Edward spent the last ten minutes since Bella had returned from her doctor visit, pacing. After he made sure her fake health records would hold up, she'd agreed to see one. However, in the last few days, he usually answered anything she asked in a variety of grunts and growls. It had nothing to do with her seeing a doctor, but something else. She had accused him of being a Neanderthal the last time and stalked off to work on a new series Gianna was displaying on her behalf in a few months.

"Enough is enough, Edward!" Bella huffed, her arms flailing around. "You've been such an asshole for days. Just talk to me."

"I don't have to take this shit," he said, his voice deeper than usual. Considering he rarely used it in days, she wasn't surprised. He stalked toward his wallet and keys on the kitchen counter, heading toward the front door of the house.

"Oh, so you're going to run." She threw her hands up and slid on along the wood flooring with her sock-covered feet, beating him to the door. "You need to stop fucking avoiding me or running, Edward, right now. Something has to give, because I feel like I'm walking on eggshells. I can't stand seeing you like this. It's driving me crazy."

Refusing to take the bait that would start another argument, he grabbed her by the hips to lift her and set her aside. That did it. She came at him with her words the moment he put his hand on the doorknob.

"Go ahead and go. I'm going to the memorial with your parents."

Edward turned toward her, rage building up to a point of no return. She had figured out what had him so on edge. Of course, she did. She stood up to him, hands on her hips, lips pursed to a thin line. Her chest heaved with every breath she took. It was a tiny bit of fear in her eyes that finally did him in, sending him to his knees.

"Fuck, don't be afraid of me," he said, wrapping his arms around her hips. He rested his forehead on her stomach, trying to get his breathing under control. It wasn't until her fingers ran through his hair that he relaxed a little. "I know I've been an asshole. I'm afraid of facing their families."

"I'm not afraid _of_ you, Edward. The only thing I fear is you leaving. I understand your fear, though." Her fingers continued to soothe him in a way that only she could. He started seeing a therapist again, but the two sessions so far had been either horrible or a complete waste of time when he remained stoic and silent. He would continue going, despite how much he hated it. "I'll do anything I can to make it easier."

She had asked on a few occasions about what he was going to do since his parents had given the letter and invitation from his fellow soldier's sister, urging him to attend. Each time she brought it up, he found a way to distract her. It wasn't healthy and she put it a stop to it. If he refused to discuss it, she changed the subject and reminded him to talk to his therapist about it; something his parents urged him to start up again.

"Come with me."

"Are you sure?"

He rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around her. "Yes, please. I need you with me."

.

.

.

Bella had arranged for the hotel and flights to Chicago, letting Esme know their plans. His parents had left the day before, insisting on joining their son.

Their flight was the next morning, and the memorial would be the following day. Edward had remained subdued since he'd asked her to come. She understood and tried her best to be there for him. For the past two days, as they awaited for their departure, he worked alongside Jacob on her house. They had left for Edward's cabin earlier, because he needed a few things from there. They returned with a duffel bag packed with his clothes and a garment bag that held his dress blues inside.

"Bye, Jake." She kept a smile on her face as Jacob grabbed his tools before leaving for the day. He'd return to work on the house while they were in Chicago.

Edward dropped his things on the couch and held out his hand for her. From his rigid stance, she knew he needed something from her. "Are you sure?" she asked the second they stepped into master bathroom. He only nodded and sat on the stool near the sink.

"As a solider, dressed in my uniform, I'm expected to dress according to regulation. That means it must go." He looked up at her, cupping her cheek. "You really don't mind it?"

She shrugged and blushed a little, offering him a small smile and arranging the things she needed. When he had asked for her help days earlier, she had agreed without question. However, she worried how he'd feel or act once she, in essence, removed his armor.

He sat down and took a deep breath before closing his eyes. Her approach was slow, not wanting to scare him, but he seemed more aware than she thought, his hands immediately settling on her hips when she stood in front of him. On the first pass with the trimmer, his lashes fluttered closed for a few moments, but opened to meet her gaze.

"Keep going." His voice was rough and deep, his eyes closing again. One of his fingers teased her hip, but she kept on the task. Slowly, more and more of his skin along his throat and jaw came into view. She purposely left the side of the scar for last, knowing it could be a trigger for him. His hands tightened around her hips as she passed the trimmer gently over it. Tears fell from her eyes, watching his jaw clench slightly as he swallowed hard. "I'm okay." Suddenly, his eyes met her again, having felt her tears land on his thighs and arms. "I'm okay, Bella."

"I know."

He said nothing more, watching as she put the trimmer aside and grabbed the shaving cream and razor. Her hands shook, but he grabbed them to stop her. "I really am okay, Bella."

She nodded, undeterred and waited for his hands to fall away from her wrists. She focused once again and allowed the tears to fall. His thumb grazed her hip in a soothing gesture that warmed her heart, but didn't try to stop her from crying. On the final swipe of the blade, she noticed the lone tear on his cheek. She wiped it away along with any remaining shaving cream and tossed the washcloth away.

Every tear that fell from her eyes seem to spear Edward through the heart, while also warming it. Fuck, if it didn't confuse him. He didn't dare ask why she cried, and he had a feeling he already knew. Since they talked about what they wanted, she'd been more open and free with her affection for him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, holding his face in her hands. He nodded and tried to smile, but it quickly turned into a grimace. As a prisoner, his captors had crudely stitched the gash, and the scar along one side of his jaw healed a little too tight. He felt it stretch when he smiled, more so now that it was clean-shaven. Her finger slowly skimmed over the tight skin and bent to press her lips to it, whispering, "I love you."

"Bella. God, I don't deserve you," he groaned, wrapping his arms around her waist and settling his cheek on her chest.

"That's where you're wrong." He looked up at her for a moment, trying to say something, but she stopped him. "Only if you're ready and not because I said it."

Edward swallowed hard, because the words were right on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he nodded and rested his forehead on her stomach. "Thank you." He felt her nod as her fingers ran through her hair. "We might as well keep going." She whimpered, causing him to chuckle a little, because she did love to pull his hair. "It'll grow back." For several minutes, she worked to give him a standard military haircut. He planned to pay a visit to the families that lost loved ones; he wanted to do it as a solider, with dignity and respect.

* * *

**AN: Only the epilogue is left, which is finished. I'll post it soon. Thanks**


	12. Epilogue

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Epilogue**

* * *

Edward asked Bella to join him in the shower after she finished cutting his hair. "You look good like this, too." He cocked an eyebrow. "What? You do, but yeah, I still like the scruff."

"I'll let it grow out a bit, but maybe not as much." She hummed non-committedly taking the body wash and helping him clean up. "What's wrong?"

"I'd still want you with or without it." She shrugged and tried to distract him, her hand wrapping around his erection. His groan was deep as he rested his head on her shoulder. "Whatever _you_ need," she added in a hoarse whisper.

He cupped her face and kissed her, deepening it and losing himself in her. "You, I need you." Slick hands worked to clean each other, soon his lips and fingers started to explore. He washed her hair, gripping it tight in his palm as he slipped inside her soon after. It started slow and easy, but turned hard and fast. Need had them falling apart under cooling water within minutes.

.

.

.

"Stop staring," Bella heard Edward say to Emmett from the backseat of the cruiser a couple of days later. He offered them a ride to the airport, but she would never forget the nearly neck-breaking double take he made when he first saw Edward without a beard and long hair.

"Sorry," Emmett mumbled, clearing his throat. "It's just that I've never seen you without the beard. I'm really fucking glad you never met Rosalie looking like this. She would've left me for you." He chuckled, giving Edward a cheeky grin and showing off a dimple.

Bella couldn't help but giggle. Edward looked over his shoulder and glared at her. "Don't encourage him."

"What? You're hot." She wiggled her eyebrows and licked her lips, knowing it would set him off.

For a few seconds, he continued to glare at her for that little tease, but rolled his eyes and looked out the window. His jaw clenched when they passed a road sign for the airport, confirming her suspicions. Anxiety made him stoic and nervous, his usual gruff self. Bella knew he hadn't been on a plane since his army days. After his release from the rehabilitation center, he drove all the way to California.

The call from his parents only an hour before they left for the airport made him even more nervous. A couple of the surviving members of his unit were attending the memorial and he was having a hard time coping with the thought of seeing them again, too.

It hard enough for him to face his parents all fresh faced and his scars visible, but with everyone else who would be attendance, he had no way to hide. A baseball cap hid his prominent scar, but he wouldn't be able to wear it at the memorial. It was a fact he would have to get used to until his hair grew out again.

Ever since his parents gave him the letter requesting his presence at the memorial, his memories had taken center stage in his thoughts. He often left their bed as she slept, too afraid he'd have a nightmare.

The night before, she checked on him and found him in the living room, asleep on the couch with the television on as background noise. He was only doing it for her protection and she wouldn't go against his wishes by trying to wake him. He had asked that when he had a nightmare for her to stay away until he got himself under control. It was what they agreed on, and she would keep her promise.

Only he started to cry out her name as she started up the stairs. She couldn't help keeping an eye on him from the bottom step, singing softly as she had the first time he had a nightmare in her presence, and every time since. He had awoken with a start and gruffly asked for her. In his arms, he told her about how memories of the attack were mingling with those of the present, seeing her among the dead.

They had fallen asleep on the couch, but he whispered how he couldn't lose her. She wanted to bring it up before their flight, but he seemed strung too tight. Thankfully, they had one whole day in Chicago before the memorial. She hoped it would be enough time for him to become a little more comfortable back home.

A few minutes later, Emmett helped them with their bags and promised to be there when they returned in a few days. Taking her hand, Edward led her through the airport to await departure. She sent a text to Esme a little later, letting her know that they were boarding.

"Would you be disappointed if once we got there, I change my mind?" he asked once they boarded. Bella adjusted her seatbelt and fiddled with her book in the attempt to give herself time to come up with the right words. "Never mind, guess I know the answer."

She held up her finger. "I was trying to gather my thoughts." He lifted an eyebrow, with a look that clearly questioned why she'd have the sudden need to filter herself. "I know I should be more careful and I'm trying not to put my foot in my mouth so often."

"I wouldn't want you to be anyone else. I don't mind how honest and blunt you tend to be. In a way, I don't really blame you." He leaned in closer to whisper. "Your past is basically a lie, I can see why you'd want to be honest in everything else you say and do."

Tears threatened to spill over, but his little glare kept them at bay, since there was nothing he hated more than her tears. She smiled and shrugged; once again, at a loss for words. He understood her, and he was right. She couldn't be open with certain aspects of her life, so she practically lost her filter for everything else. Still, she'd rather not go through life often sticking her foot in her mouth.

"I wouldn't be disappointed," she finally said, noticing how his stiff shoulders relaxed at her words. "I would understand if you couldn't go. It's been five years since you lost your best friends. Men you grew up with, trained with, died a little with, and to you, it seems like just yesterday. In a way, it's the same for them, but _you _were there. I'd stay by your side whatever you decide to do. It's what a person does for those they love."

His thumb swept away a tear that managed to get away from her. "Just like I'd stay by your side in whatever you do." She knew what he was trying to say, watching him swallow hard, and shake his head. "You deserve so much better than me." His eyes remained on hers. "I can't even say…"

She brushed her lips over his, stopping him from rambling. "I do know how you feel. I wouldn't be here with you if you didn't love me." He averted his eyes and did a half nod and shrug. "As for what you deserve, I could say the same thing, you know? Sometimes, I wonder how you put up with me."

"Such a hardship," he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching to keep from smiling. She rolled her eyes. He leaned in, nuzzling her neck and felt his smile against her skin. "You are a pain in ass." She smacked his shoulder, but kept her hand there, keeping him close.

.

.

.

Bella sat in the middle of a suite in Chicago, waiting for Edward to finish dressing to leave together for a brunch the families would be serving before the memorial. She tried not to fidget, and twice, Esme had to stop her from pulling at the hem of the skirt she wore. Edward wasn't the only one dressing up. She hadn't worn something so conservative in years.

"How's he doing?" Esme asked Bella over coffee. Carlisle offered her a small smile, and for the first time since she met him, he had dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept, too worried about how his son would handle the day. Who could blame them? She hardly slept, either.

Edward had a nightmare the night before, and in her haste to move away, had fallen off the bed. The sound had startled him awake, which hadn't gone well. It had taken twice as long as normal to pull himself out of the memories.

Once Edward was aware, he started talking about high school with his friends. The tension the nightmare had caused slowly leaked out of him, and he fell asleep with his head on her lap and her fingers in his hair.

"He's been quiet," she replied, not meeting either of their concerned gazes. "He told me about his friends." She laughed a little. "And about the time he tried to play off that he wasn't drunk."

Carlisle chuckled, shaking his head. "He kept insisting he could walk a straight line that night."

Esme snorted, making them all laugh. "He couldn't understand why the wall kept moving." She smiled. "I had so much fun the following morning, making breakfast." Bella looked confused. "I banged every cabinet door, drawer, and pot in the kitchen."

"She did. It was evil, but he deserved it."

"I learned my lesson," Edward said, shocking them all. Bella turned to look at him and swore her jaw fell to the floor. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, not liking the attention.

"Forget hot," Bella said as she rose to her feet and walked over to him. "You're nuclear. If your parents weren't here..." He groaned and rolled his eyes, watching her closely, one of his hands sliding down her back. She straightened out his tie and smiled up at him. "You look very handsome."

"Thanks." His hand settled on her hip, his eyes roaming slowly over her pencil skirt and blue blouse. "You look great."

"Thank you. Would you like some coffee?" She knew he was stalling, felt it in his rigid stance. He wasn't quite ready to talk to his parents and preferred their little bubble at the moment. It would be the first time in over five years since he'd worn the uniform. He nodded, and before she could move away, he slipped his hand around hers.

"You look so handsome, Edward," his mother said as they walked over, offering him a timid smile. She handed him a cup of coffee and kissed his cheek.

"Good morning, son."

Edward shook his father's hand, taking the seat beside him. "How is everyone?" Other than his parents, the only family they had left was his grandparents and an uncle, the perpetual bachelor.

"Nana and Pop are doing well. They're both sorry they can't make the memorial, but will join us for breakfast tomorrow." A dear friend of his grandmother had just passed away, and her funeral was that day, too. Edward said he understood and had spoken to them over the phone shortly after arriving the day before. "Your Uncle Garrett is getting married."

"He finally met his match, did he?" He couldn't help but laugh. Growing up, his uncle always jokingly said that marriage was an institution for the insane. For a while, Edward believed him. He hadn't slept around, but he never settled down. Watching Bella for a few moments, he realized he didn't mind the 'm' word much.

"He sure did. Kate is a firecracker and keeps him on his toes," Carlisle said. "And she's almost eleven years younger." Edward cocked an eyebrow at the slightly disdain in his mother's tone as she tsked at him, her eyes smiling, though. She was nine years younger than his father, and Bella was more than five years younger than him.

Bella sat back and watched Edward interact with his parents. Noticing for the first time, how he leaned toward a person when he talked, as if to fully engage himself in the conversation. He only did it with his parents and her. It was quite something to see. Twice, Esme reached up to touch his cheek, and he smiled at her softly, mildly amused and only a touch fearful. Likely afraid of how he'd react if she touched one of his scars. Perhaps how _she'd _react to them.

With his hand still in hers as he listened to his father talk about his brother's new house, his finger traced patterns against her palm. After a few moments, she recognized the letters and shape. Leaning closer to him, she brushed his lips against his ear and whispered, "I love you, too."

A small smile appeared on Edward's face. The light color that rose in his cheeks made Bella laugh. At the sound, he turned to kiss her on the lips, as if he couldn't resist. They finally looked away from each other after a few seconds, and saw his parents looked exceedingly happy with glazed eyes.

"I swear if anyone sheds a tear right now, I'm leaving without you."

.

.

.

"It wasn't so bad, was it?" Edward asked hours later while they shared a bath. It was something they indulged in rarely, but Bella had taken one look at the oversized tub and insisted. She hummed, leaning against his chest, playing with his fingers on her stomach.

He was right. It hadn't gone bad at all. The families of the friends he lost had greeted him with open arms, falling back to old times when Edward used to charm them all as a kid. They stories they shared made her laugh for hours, and gave her plenty to tease him with later.

"After your initial shock from the tender greetings from Jose's grandmother, the hugs _and_ kisses from Tyler's mother, and Mike's baby sister, it went rather well."

Edward couldn't help but smile at Bella's tone. "She was cute."

"And jailbait." Angie, Mike's sister, wasn't that young but Bella kept reminding him she was only eighteen. She had nothing to worry about, aside from the fact that he'd heard too many stories about her from Mike that she felt like a little sister to him, too.

"I get it, you're jealous," he said, trying not to laugh at her scowl. "_You're_ cute." His arms wrapped tightly around her until she relaxed again. He dropped his chin on her shoulder. "Thanks for coming with me. You made it easier."

Mitch and Jeff, two of the soldiers that had survived the attack and pulled him out of hell a few of weeks later had been there. Their faces had brought up memories, the kind that made him shake in his bed at night. There had been a few times where it was too much and he had to take a walk to clear his head. Each time, Bella had been there, either talking to distract him or just walking beside him. Then, when they returned from their walks, his friends greeted him as if he hadn't left.

"I felt like an ass for not being able to talk," he said after a few minutes. No one had asked him to speak at the memorial, but he felt he should have.

"I think they knew it would be hard on you, Edward."

"They were my best friends, I should have." He couldn't talk in front of the hundred or so people in attendance, but he did talk to their families when she suggested it. "Thank you for giving me the courage to talk to them privately." He had pulled each close family member aside, the ones he had known personally, apologizing for staying away. How sorry he was that he couldn't protect his friends. How much he missed them. "They don't hate me, I thought that maybe they did because I survived and they didn't."

"No, I don't think they could." She turned in his arms, straddling his hips. "You're going to have to get used to that." He grunted, because for years, he'd grown accustomed to wide berth everyone gave him. People thought he was more approachable with Bella by side.

He'd have to work on getting used it, but he worried he'd never have a moment alone with her.

.

.

.

_Three months later_

"Any word?" Edward asked as Bella scowled at the computer.

"The organization has pretty much crumbled since Liam was shot." In the weeks following their return from the memorial in Chicago, Liam, Riley's tie to a mob organization, was shot three times in the chest, only to live for another three weeks in a coma. He died the night before due to all of his injuries. "Alec suggests that I don't give up my alias, since a few family members are still alive."

"We already decided that, so what's the problem?"

"Jasper wants to see me."

"I see." He couldn't look at her then, returning his attention to the morning paper he was reading earlier.

"That's all you're going to say?" She huffed when he shrugged and rose to wash her dishes in the sink. Jacob was due any minute to pick Edward up for work, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He couldn't tell her _not _to go; she hated when he made decisions for her.

As if she hadn't brought up the sore subject of her ex-husband, Edward asked if she had any plans.

"I have an appointment to get the birth control shot."

Her new doctor informed her that her chances of getting pregnant had increased over the years. From the three percent chance she was told when she turned eighteen and had married Jasper, to a twenty-five percent chance of having a baby. Other than the scar tissue from the car accident in her youth that claimed an ovary, she was in relative good health.

He put the newspaper down when he heard her voice shake, circling around the island and wrapping his arms around her. "It's your choice on whether you see him or not. I won't make the choice for you, but I will go with you, if you'd like."

"We've said all we've had to say to each other. I don't l-love him, not like I love you." She shrugged. "I forgave him for leaving me like he did. I don't know what he wants."

"Does it matter?"

"No, it doesn't."

"Then maybe you should ask what's it all about and go from there. Maybe he needs to know you're all right, and to see it for himself. I know I would, if I were him."

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling when he lifted her onto the kitchen counter. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you a kiss," he said, right before he did just that. "I love you." She smiled into the next kiss, both oblivious to the knocking for a minute "I'll be right out," he called out, waiting until Jacob moved off the porch. He returned his attention to Bella's kiss swollen lips, rubbing the bottom one with his thumb. Resting his forehead on hers, he took a breath to get the words he had on his mind for weeks. "How about you don't get the shot?"

She smiled, rubbing at his two-week-old beard. "You want to have babies with me?"

"I want whatever happens, to have a chance to happen." He did a shy half-shrug thing and kissed her forehead. "I want a lot of things with you. Everything, in fact. It'll take time for me to work through my issues, but if you're right there beside me, I know I'll be okay."

"Happy?" He knew what she was asking with that soft-spoken word. Would he be happy if they couldn't have a baby?

"As long as I'm with you, yes," was his response.

She wrapped her arms around him so tight that he could barely breathe. He felt her lips on his ear. "Okay, I won't get it."

.

.

.

"Jasper is getting married," Bella said a few days later. "He wanted me to know. That's what he wanted to see me about. She works at the firm with him, but is strictly a non-field agent."

Between Bella's contacts and Edward's computer skills, they were able to set up a secure chat in the deep web. "What did you tell him?"

"Congratulations. It's like you said, he wanted to see with his own two eyes that I was okay. So the video helped."

"So you don't have to go see him?"

"Nope," she said, sliding onto his lap, his book wedged between the cushions of the couch.

"How do you feel about him getting married?"

"Okay, I guess. In a way, I would like to be there, since he's in essence the only person tied to my childhood, everyone else is dead. But then I think, yeah, I don't think his new wife would want me there."

Relieved that she didn't feel hurt by her ex getting married, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. She snuggled up against his chest, dressed in only panties and a long sleeved shirt.

"Now, that we don't have any immediate plans, how about a trip up to our cabin?"

Ever since the trip to Chicago and their schedules became routine, everything was "_ours",_ not his or hers.

"We'll have to come back down for the holiday next week," she reminded him.

It was Thanksgiving the following Thursday, their first. She hummed, trailing her warm lips along his neck. "If you keep doing that, we're never getting out of here." His arms curled around her, pulling closer, her teeth scraping against his bare shoulder. "It could wait a few minutes," he felt her loosen the drawstring of his sleep pants, "or a few hours." She laughed as he swept her in his arms, shifting her on the couch until she was beneath him.

He watched her hands struggle to remove his pants. He was too busy trying to take off her top. Slipping off the couch, he dropped and kicked off his clothes and watched her. She kept her gaze on him as she stripped herself bare for him.

He'd never tire of that wicked look in her eyes. Full of heat, desire, and love, it made a heart-stopping combination, one that fueled his own arousal.

"Fuck," he hissed the moment her hands touched him as he climbed over her. "I'll never have enough of you." She hummed in pleasure, his lips closing around her tight nipple. "Never." He continued to whisper the word, sucking her skin in his mouth, marking her in various places. Light enough to satisfy him, but not enough to earn her anger. His fingers spread along the side of her thigh, hitching her leg higher to bring her that much closer. Their lips continued to roam, meeting every few minutes until he had her so worked up, she begged for him. He settled one foot on the floor for leverage and thrust inside her. They both cursed and held on tight.

"Yes," she moaned softly at his next thrust, reaching for his mouth. She kissed him the same way he fucked her, loving every second of it as much as he did. He slowed every time she came too close to falling over an edge he wanted to share with her.

To give himself the ability to hold on a little longer, he pulled his lips away, studying her pulse on her neck with his tongue. He whispered his love over her skin, and as if she heard it, she murmured, "I love you."

Her words fueled their passion, hurrying his thrusts, only for her to meet each one. It didn't take long before their sweat-slicked skin, heated kisses, and mutual desire became too much. They fell headfirst together, wave after wave moving through them until they were a shaking in each other's arms.

Minutes later, her soft laugh teased his senses again. "Each time, I think that was the best, and then you go prove me wrong."

Edward couldn't keep the smug grin from surfacing. He lifted her in his arms, despite his shaky limbs, and carried her into their bedroom.

"I know that look," she said, smiling. "I better pack my cream to help soothe the bite of your scruff." He laughed as he helped her pack, in a hurry to get up the mountain so he could enjoy the solitude with her.

.

.

.

"I can't believe it's been a year since you hit me with your truck," Carlisle said as he held up a glass of wine to toast Bella. "Here's to learning my lesson to not eat and drive."

"Thank God you cheated on your diet that night," Esme said, smiling at Bella. "Who knows where we'd be if you hadn't."

"I think Bella and I would've met eventually." Edward said as he clinked his beer against his father's glass. "She's too curious for her own good and would've wanted to meet the artist that made some of her favorite art pieces."

Bella rolled her eyes. She knew Edward would've done the same. He'd seen her work before he even met her, but hadn't bought any until he had.

"I was wearing Gianna down. I would've shown up at your doorstep eventually." She loved Edward's work, and her collection had grown over the year since they met, thanks to him. He often called her his muse.

"Even so, she did save me from choking on a meatball."

"Oh my God, are you blushing, Carlisle?" Bella laughed, kissing his cheek.

"I don't know to what you're referring to." He was using his doctor voice, but the smile behind it killed the delivery. She pinched his cheek, making him roll his eyes. "It's a good thing you saved me."

"Saved me, too," Edward murmured softly, watching them in that way of his that always made her feel loved. His eyes held something, no longer as dull and dark as before. There was warmth that she helped put there.

Esme asked, pulling Bella's gaze from Edward. "Why aren't you drinking, Bella?"

"I was waiting for the right toast." She glanced at Edward, who quirked an eyebrow.

"What toast?" Carlisle asked, his gaze bouncing between them.

Edward looked at Bella sitting beside him; the soft glow on her skin from the candlelight all through dinner constantly drew his gaze. Taking their clasped hands from beneath the table, he lifted them up for his parents to see the ring on her finger.

"We're engaged." Edward had asked her under a blanket of stars after making love in the rain again.

Amidst the laughter, hugs, and tears, Edward realized life couldn't get better than that. Bella proved him wrong when she became his wife six months later in a ceremony in the backyard of his parents' house. And then yet again when, against all odds, she made him the father of a beautiful little girl after that. She would often to prove him wrong through the years, and Edward wouldn't have it any other way.

**The End**

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**AN: **I'd like to thank the Ruggedom Contest for coming up with the contest that this was originally written for. I'd like to thank Kyla713 and Kimmie43 for your help and all the hand holding you've given me to get this written and prettied up. Thank you to Mina who created a gorgeous banner that inspired me to write. Thanks to all the people that rt'd, reviewed, and read this story. I'm going to miss it.


	13. Future Take

**AN: Surprise! A small glimpse of the lives of Edward and Bella, after this is posted, I will be hitting complete. Thank you so much for reading!**

* * *

**Something's Gotta Give**

**Future Take **√ 

* * *

_Five years later_

"Peyton," Edward called out once he removed his muddied boots. He added gravel to the driveway, hoping to avoid tracking so much mud into the house. Bella would be pissed as fuck if he dirtied up the floors.

The sound of running footsteps seemed to echo in the hall until his daughter slid to a stop in front of him on her mismatched socks. Reddish brown curls swayed around her little face, as she held up one of Bella's old cameras.

"Say cheese, Daddy!"

He grinned and waited until the flashed cleared before he made a grab for her. As she giggled and squirmed in his arms, he blew a raspberry on her tummy. "Where's Mommy?"

"Room," Peyton said, struggling to get a few wayward curls from her eyes. "It smells icky in there."

Edward sighed. Bella was on her nesting kick with baby two on the way. "Let's go see what she's doing."

"O'tay."

At three, Peyton was a precocious, sassy little girl that had everyone she knew eating out of the palm of her hand. She had his green eyes, her mother's smile and skin tone, and more attitude than both of them combined. Despite her lovely looks, she was her father's daughter through and through. She preferred her flannel shirts and jeans over her dresses, but there was always some pastel color ribbon in her riot of curls.

"Hey, pretty momma," he said, leaning against the doorframe. Before his wife turned to face him, a smile tugged at her lips. She looked great in blue maternity dress that showed off her breasts and fit snug around her ass. He'd been up at the cabin for a few days to gather firewood for the winter ahead. Since she was about ready to pop with their son, they decided to say in town instead of atop the mountain. He missed her and needed her. "What's up?"

"My water just broke, so it better not be you."

He choked on a laugh as Peyton giggled at the face her mommy was making. "Right on time, I guess."

Bella grimaced and held onto the crib. "Oh boy, let's go. If this is anything like last time, we'll barely make it."

"On it." He pulled out his cell phone as he slipped into Peyton's room to grab a bag they packed for a situation like this. "Hey, Rose, she's in labor. We're dropping off Peyton and then heading down to the hospital."

Rosalie covered her phone to say something and came back on the phone. "Emmett said he'd escort you, we don't want her to give birth on the side of the road again." He said his goodbye and helped Peyton and Bella into the SUV they had bought the year before.

"Oh my God," Bella cried out, holding onto her stomach, her forehead resting on the cool glass. "I don't think we're going to make it."

Edward stepped on the gas, barely coming to a full stop in Emmett's driveway. Jasmine and Rosalie met him there, taking Peyton and her things with them. He waved at Emmett, waiting in his cruiser, his lights coming on as he drove away.

.

.

.

They made it to the hospital, but due to a complication, they had to wheel in Bella into surgery within minutes. His father talked them into allowing him to stay and Bella insisted on local anesthesia, wanting to be awake to greet her son. Within thirty minutes, Joseph Michael Tyler Cullen was born. He was a fighter, like his mother and father, refusing to leave her side as the nurse held him close so she could see him.

Edward was in awe as he saw his boy hold onto his mother for dear life, his lips on her jaw as tears slipped down her cheek. They laughed as he started to cry the second the nurse turned away to get him cleaned up. He kissed Bella's forehead, before joining the two people with his son and making sure he was okay. The moment Joseph lay in his arms, they led him out of the OR, where he waited for Bella to join him in the recovery room.

The next morning, Peyton climbed onto Bella's bed to meet her little brother. "He looks yucky." Their family laughed as Peyton scrunched her nose but kissed the top of her brother's head. Exhausted, Bella asked for a kiss and hugged her daughter as Edward offered to hold his son. As Peyton described to her what she did the night before with Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasmine, his mother showed him how to change his diaper. Apparently, it was much different from little girls, there was dodging streams and lifting involved.

Soon, Joseph started to cry. "Someone's hungry." Carlisle left to finish his rounds, confirming with Peyton about the ice cream he promised earlier. As Edward watched Joseph latch onto Bella's nipple, their daughter watched in fascination.

"Those were Daddy's, Mommy," she said loudly, making Bella snicker, his mother snort and him blush like an idiot. "That's what he said. I hears him."

"I never said that," Edward said gruffly, tossing his daughter over his shoulder. Ignoring her sweet giggles for the moment, he kissed his wife. "While you feed the baby, I'm going to feed our daughter."

As he exited the room, he heard his mother and he wanted a hole to swallow him up. "You'd think he'd stop being embarrassed with how many times we've caught you with your pants down."

"By every one of our friends," Bella added, but sighed wistfully. "I hope it'll always be that way." It would be, he'd make sure of it.

Walking down the hall, he recognized the waiting room where he first met Bella. Six and half years later, in the same hospital, she was his wife, mother of his two beautiful children, and he knew right then, that life would only get better.


End file.
